


Traffic Lights

by LadyDrace



Series: Eat Me Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst, Attempted Murder, Avoidance, BDSM, Biting, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Dom/sub, Dominance, Exhibitionism, Gentleness, M/M, Marking, Master/Pet, Mentions of Non-Consensual Drug Use, Misunderstandings, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pet Names, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Self-Deception, Sex Toys, Spanking, Subdrop, Submission, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Sam keeps coming back for more, it becomes increasingly obvious that maybe there's more to it than amazing sex.</p><p>AKA the PWP that got a sequel and started growing a plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Светофоры](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851290) by [fidelity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fidelity/pseuds/fidelity)



> Holy shit you guys, posting my first WIP since the soul-scarring stress-hell of 2009 when I posted my ill-concieved Nightcrawler/Toad fic: Through The Fog. Fingers crossed that this will in fact NOT take me a year and a half to finish as well.
> 
> Be warned: I don't usually post WIPs, because I suck at updating with any sort of regularity. It could be months between updates. Just FYI.
> 
> That said, here we go! (And how does one even tag WIPs, omg.) Big thanks to [sesquipedaliantea](http://sesquipedaliantea.tumblr.com) for agreeing to beta this thing for me. THANK YOU!

Sam hadn't expected this.

 

All right, sure, part of going to a fetish club was challenging his own boundaries, and Sam was used to leaving there feeling like he didn't quite know himself anymore and needing a little time to re-adjust to his new sexual limits. So he'd expected to feel a little off-center when he finally left Gabriel's apartment Saturday morning.

 

But, to Sam's complete surprise, the only thing that felt off was that _nothing_ felt off.

 

Sam felt... _good_. Better than good.

 

He felt as if something he hadn't even known was off balance was suddenly aligned, and he was breathing properly for the first time in ages. It was worrying, and frankly more than a little sad, that feeling great was cause for alarm.

 

It only got worse when he made it home and Dean noticed.

 

“All right, out with it. What've you been up to?”

 

“Nothing,” Sam said, trying his best to sound like his usual self.

 

“Bullshit. You got into something last night. You look...” Dean narrowed his eyes. “I don't even know, man. There's something, though, that's for damn sure. Now spill!”

 

“I thought you said you never ever wanted to know what the hell I get up to at – and I quote – _that place?_ ”

 

“I don't need the details!” Dean rushed. “Just... you sure you're okay?”

 

“Yeah, Dean. I'm good, I swear.”

 

Dean gave Sam a long look, but by some miracle he then apparently decided to drop the issue. Maybe Dean had finally decided to stop poking his nose in all of Sam's business.

 

And maybe _pigs would fly_.

 

Sam had showered earlier that morning, but considering that he was still wearing his day-old clothes, and the fact that he hadn't exactly been alone in Gabriel's huge, luxurious shower, Sam went straight to the bathroom. He rinsed off briefly, and then impulsively decided to shave, despite having no plans for the day, other than maybe a good long nap at some point. Because he'd sure done a lot of things through the night, but sleep hadn't featured much.

 

About half way through shaving, Sam freaked out. Because all of a sudden he realized _why_ he was pointlessly shaving, when he normally wouldn't have bothered.

 

The memory was clear as crystal as he thought back to roughly six hours prior. He'd been on his knees, panting, Gabriel stroking his own cock teasingly a mere inch from Sam's open mouth, not letting him actually do anything. Just had him sit there, still as stone, slowly going mad from the object of his desire being so close and yet so untouchable.

 

“Next time,” Gabriel had purred. “Next time I want you shaved smooth. Then I'll let you show me what you can do. But I don't like stubble burn, pet. So not this time.”

 

And then he'd proceeded to pick Sam apart until he was a quivering mess. But Gabriel had faithfully put all the pieces together afterwards, making Sam a person again, just as surely as Dean transformed hundreds of metal parts into a smoothly running car. And just like a car taken apart, cleaned, and put together again to run better than ever, Sam also felt like he'd somehow been scrubbed inside and out. Like all his joints and screws had been greased and tightened. As if he was constantly ready to spring to life at the first hint of Gabriel putting the key in the ignition.

 

Because Gabriel had the key, no doubt about that. Sam stared at himself in the mirror, razor slowly dripping shaving creme into the sink as he went through his sudden identity crisis.

 

He was shaving. Because Gabriel had asked him to. _Hours_ earlier, when they'd only barely touched the subject of “ _next time_ ” beyond that night. Sam had chosen to shave over the possibility that he _might_ end up in Gabriel's bed again at some point, which would definitely not be today, because Sam did need to sleep sometime this weekend, thank you.

 

Sam was shaving for no other reason than the thought that Gabriel would like it. For a guy Sam had met barely twelve hours earlier to have so much sway over his thoughts and wishes was just plain terrifying, and Sam finished shaving with swift, shaky movements.

 

He put off contacting Gabriel again for several days. Sam hadn't made any promises beyond a vague “I'll call you,” and to his relief, Gabriel waited for Sam to come to him. Because Sam had a sneaking suspicion that if Gabriel called, Sam would come running. Which did not help his freak-out at all.

 

Almost all of Sam's free hours were spent wondering how Gabriel could have so much power over him so quickly, and just how far it went. Dean got pissed off the third time he had to call Sam's name more than once to get his attention, which in turn prompted a loud, angry fight.

 

The fighting wasn't unusual. It was simply a direct consequence of sharing an apartment with your brother. But at least it proved to Sam that his willingness to serve had nothing to do with him being a spineless doormat, because he sure had no problem telling Dean where to shove his demands that Sam come clean about something Dean had no business meddling in.

 

Dean had an annoying tendency to forget that Sam wasn't actually a ten-year old anymore, and Sam was so very tempted to “ _accidentally_ ” let his shirt unbutton at the neck, so Dean could get a good, long look at the plentiful evidence that Sam was _really_ not a kid.

 

Gabriel had been diligent about leaving his marks.

 

Which was just more fuel for his freak-out, because Sam had never consciously let anyone mark him like that before. Sure, he'd gotten plenty of bite-marks, hickeys and bruises, but they'd only ever been left as a result of passion, never as deliberate marks of possession. But when Gabriel had murmured: “Gonna mark you, my sweet. Make sure the whole world knows you belong to me,” Sam had just laid right back and _begged_ for it. Gabriel had even called a halt to everything briefly, to ask if there was anywhere he would like to keep hickey-free, which had pissed Sam off, because of all the times to re-affirm boundaries, did Gabriel really have to pick the moment where he was finally going to touch Sam properly after driving him mad with barely-there stimulation for fucking _hours?!_

 

So yeah, Sam had welcomed it. And even now, as the marks were fading, seeing them in the mirror still thrilled him, and gave him an weird urge to go shirtless everywhere to show them off. Which wasn't normally like him. At all.

 

But eventually Sam had to remind himself that just because he'd been begging Gabriel for orders, like a starved dog for bacon, for the sake of a few brain-melting orgasms, that didn't mean that Gabriel could tell Sam what to do outside of their... _games_. He considered what he might do if Gabriel asked him to do anything harmful to himself or Dean. If he asked for money, or tried to get Sam hooked on something. Sam had already been down that road once, so he was all too aware of the risk of letting himself get carried away.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, convinced that he would balk at orders unrelated to sex, Sam finally called Gabriel almost a week later.

 

“M'yello, Gabriel speaking! Which means this is your lucky day, snookums! Lay it on me!”

 

Sam had to take moment to just digest that greeting.

 

“Uhm... hi. It's me. Sam.”

 

“Oh, hey there, stranger! I was starting to worry you might not call me back. Thought I'd scared you off.”

 

“Nah, you didn't. Just... it was a bit... much, you know?”

 

Sam could almost hear Gabriel smile into the phone. “Yeah. I know. Believe me, I do. And that's a good thing! Unless of course you're calling to tell me to keep myself and my filthy, deviant ways away from you forever...”

 

“Not much chance of that,” Sam huffed. “I'm hardly one to talk.”

 

“Weeeell...” Gabriel drawled. “I seem to recall a certain someone calling me a pervert the night we met.”

 

Sam winced at the memory. “Yeah, okay, not my proudest moment. You just caught me off guard.”

 

“Never underestimate the power of the element of surprise, m'boy,” Gabriel crowed.

 

“You know, I _was_ about to apologize for it, but since it's apparently some kinda notch in your bedpost, I'm just gonna assume it would be pointless.”

 

“Not pointless. Just not necessary.”

 

“Right.”

 

There was an awkward pause before Gabriel spoke. “So... if you're not calling to tell me to fuck off, then what are you calling for? Don't make me do all the work here, Sam!”

 

“Ah, right... I was just wondering if all that talk about next time was just talk or if you'd wanna get together next weekend?”

 

“I thought I made it clear that I mean what I say,” Gabriel said warmly, but there was just a tiny edge to his voice which made Sam shiver from delicious anticipation, and they hadn't even set a time or place yet. “Maybe you need another lesson, hmm?”

 

Sam had to swallow thickly before finding his voice again. “Maybe. And maybe this time you'll let me show _you_ a thing or two. Let me touch you. I'll be sure to shave... ”

 

There was another pause which gave Sam just enough time to start worrying that he'd somehow stepped in it. But then Gabriel groaned on the other end. “Fuck, you're a cruel man. I'm at work and I'm supposed to be giving a goddamn presentation in like ten minutes. And I'm not sure the board of directors are gonna buy my excuse that profit margins gave me this boner.”

 

“You started it,” Sam chuckled, feeling almost giddy at the thought that he was affecting Gabriel just as much in return.

 

“Yeah, because clearly I'm not too old to turn stupid over sex, and goddammit, now I have to imagine Jar Jar Binks in a thong to cool off and it's all your fault!”

 

“I'm not sure I agree with that, but lemme make it up to you anyway. How about next Friday? Your place again?”

 

“Sure thing. And bring your toothbrush, because I'm not letting you leave until I'm done with you,” Gabriel said, sounding like he was just stating a casual fact, not like he was making a heated promise. That didn't stop Sam's knees from going a little gooey.

 

“Great,” he said weakly. “Eight-ish?”

 

“Whenever you feel like dropping by. I'll be home around four, so anytime after that.”

 

“Eight it is,” Sam declared, trying to sound like he did _not_ in fact feel an insane urge to drop everything and rush to wherever Gabriel was right this minute.

 

“Awesome. See you then, pet,” Gabriel said, and Sam could have sworn that those words came with a wink.

 

He managed to end the call without embarrassing himself, and spent a happy few minutes picturing Gabriel strategically holding a clip-board to hide a massive hard-on, in a room full of stuffy old board members. All because of Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, look at [this amazing movie poster](http://sabriel-otp.tumblr.com/post/91631054619/full-resolution-here-happy-birthday-ladydrace-and) [Sabriel-OTP](http://sabriel-otp.tumblr.com/) made for this verse!!! IT'S PERFECTION!!! :D :D :D


	2. Chapter 2

Friday rolled around in style with Dean having a meltdown right before Sam left. Sam didn't think he'd been obvious about having plans, but if Dean's freaking out was any indication, then Sam had been “like a moody teenager for days”. Sam would be offended, but he knew it was just Dean's way of saying he was concerned. And as much as Sam would love to tell him to just butt out, Dean did have reason to worry.

 

It hadn't been that long since Ruby had waltzed in and got Sam so turned around he almost ended up getting himself killed. She'd led him around by his dick and convinced him somehow that it was love, just because she was willing to offer him things he'd naïvely assumed he'd never find anywhere else. Dean had actually been the one to suggest the fetish club to Sam when Ruby was finally out of their lives, because Dean would much rather see his little brother having casual and freaky sex with strangers than bring home another ill-advised significant other simply because they were kinky.

 

Which didn't really help Sam's doubts about Gabriel a lot. Sure, so far Gabriel hadn't made any attempts to worm his way into Sam's life, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try later. So yeah, Dean's fears were real enough. But Sam liked to think he'd learned his lesson, and Dean just could not express concerns like a normal person. He always went on the offensive, and as a result Sam arrived at Gabriel's apartment late and cranky.

 

Gabriel opened the door with a lecherous grin, but it dropped off immediately when he saw Sam's face. “Woah. You look ticked off. Bad day at work?”

 

“No. Bad evening at home.”

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. They hadn't really discussed their personal lives, and Sam wasn't sure he was ready to yet. “Just... living with family, you know?” he said vaguely.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Gabriel said with a sympathetic eye-roll. “I lived with not one but two of my brothers in college. We hated each other good and proper by graduation time.”

 

“Yikes.”

 

“Yeah.” Gabriel showed Sam to the living room and he dropped heavily into the same spot on the couch he'd been on last time. He expected Gabriel to take the chair again, half convinced that they'd start off the night the same way they did before, but to his surprise Gabriel sat down on the couch next to him. He still rested his ankle casually on his knee, bobbing his foot lightly, but he was looking at Sam not with heat but with mild worry.

 

“You sure you're okay?”

 

Sam tried his best to hitch on a smile. “Yeah, it's fine. I'll feel better once we... uhm... start.” He didn't know what to call what they did and felt awkward about it. But Gabriel just smiled back, not mocking him.

 

“Actually, I wouldn't recommend dom and sub fun in your state of mind. Things can get ugly really fucking fast if either party isn't entirely level headed.”

 

At Sam's frown, Gabriel huffed out a small breath and pulled his leg up on the couch to better face him.

 

“Look, a lot of people think it must be great fun to whip some poor sub to shreds when you've had a bad day, but once it becomes about anger it's not sex anymore. Then it's abuse. And it's the same if the sub is in a bad place. Pain for pain's sake is never a good thing, Sam.”

 

Sam was taken aback by Gabriel's sincerity, but what he said made sense. And it also made Sam's Ruby-related worries die down a lot. Ruby had loved it when Sam was angry and never missed an opportunity to stoke his fire when his emotions were high. But Gabriel was older, experienced, and had clearly had his own fuck-ups to learn from. And Sam was nothing if not eager to learn. There would be no more Rubys in his life ever again.

 

“No, I see what you mean.” Sam nodded and then sighed to himself. “Look, I'm sorry, I swear I came over to have fun, not to bum you out.”

 

“Oh, don't you worry, kiddo. We're still gonna have loads of fun, you and me,” Gabriel purred. “See, there's nothing wrong with plain ol' angry sex. Not by a long shot.”

 

Sam had to swallow quite hard at that promise. Not to mention the fact that Gabriel was sliding his hand slowly up Sam's arm to his shoulder, while smoothly rising up on his knees, getting him up to Sam's level.

 

“That is, of course, if you're game?” Gabriel asked quietly, licking his lips as he inched closer. The movement of Gabriel's tongue made Sam instantly hungry for it and he surged into a wet kiss, pulling Gabriel to him with both hands. But if Sam had thought that he was allowed to run the show when they weren't doing the dominance-submission thing, then he was dead wrong.

 

Gabriel let Sam start the kiss, but within seconds he raised himself higher on his knees and tilted Sam's head back with both hands, taking over the kiss easily, Sam's attempts to control it growing half-hearted very fast. Gabriel was apparently a control freak even when the game wasn't on, and Sam quickly decided he didn't mind.

 

After long breathless minutes of just kissing, tongues sliding wetly against each other, hands eagerly stroking and kneading, Gabriel pulled away just enough to look Sam in the eye. “I'm gonna blow you and you're gonna fuck my mouth until you come.” Even though it sounded like an order, there was a question in his eyes, and Sam nodded eagerly, aware that it was a different game this time, but loving it just as much.

 

One more kiss and then Gabriel was sliding himself sinuously to the floor, parting Sam's knees to settle between them. “You'd be amazed what a good orgasm can do for your mood.” Gabriel grinned and started undoing Sam's jeans without further ado.

 

Sam slumped back into the cushions and watched Gabriel's hands on him with something like awe. The same man who had spent hours and hours keeping Sam on his knees and in line was now on his knees himself, and somehow Sam felt just as much kept in line as he had during that first night. But it was more subtle, and he felt perfectly free to reach out and pull Gabriel in for one more kiss before he could start anything.

 

Gabriel laughed into the kiss and bit Sam's lower lip gently in reproach. Sam grinned too when he fell back again, and Gabriel finally managed to shift enough clothing aside to pull out Sam's cock, already hot and hard from just the promise of wet heat soon. Without missing a beat, Gabriel reached into his own back pocket and fished out a condom, cherry flavored and fire truck red. Sam wasn't the least bit surprised. If he'd learned anything from their first meeting it was that Gabriel had a playful streak a mile wide. And if how many sugars he took in his morning coffee was any indication, then his sweet tooth was just about the same size.

 

In the blink of an eye the condom was on, the movements practiced in a way that made Sam vaguely jealous for a brief moment, before all thoughts of why he should even care were banished when Gabriel's lips closed around the head of Sam's cock.

 

“ _God!_ ”

 

Gabriel's lips were cool against Sam's overheated flesh, but the tongue circling his crown felt blazing hot, and Sam was thrusting up to meet it before he could stop himself. But Gabriel was obviously dead serious about his plans, because he just opened up and let Sam slide right in until he bumped the back of Gabriel's mouth.

 

Sam had had this done to him a lot. Being rather well equipped made him a frequent target for size queens, and he'd shamelessly accepted more than a few times, because while he craved kinkier things on a fairly regular basis, a simple blowjob could still get him off.

 

But Gabriel was still Gabriel, and if Sam had expected deep-throating and cock-worship, he could think again. Because once his mouth was full, Gabriel pulled back, cheeks hollowing obscenely and didn't stop until he pulled off with a pop that made Sam's legs quiver. He dove back down immediately, and this time let his hand cover what his mouth didn't. Sam thrust up again, and Gabriel didn't hold him back. He just rolled with the movement, guiding gently with his hand, and once again pulled off completely when Sam could go no further.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sam panted after the third bone-rattling smack of Gabriel's mouth pulling off Sam's cock, leaking like crazy inside the ridiculous red condom. “You're _evil_...”

 

“Oh, I haven't even started yet,” Gabriel announced cheekily and let both hands slide up and down Sam's cock, while he licked his lips. Keeping his hands busy, he ducked down to tongue Sam's balls, and Sam jumped slightly when Gabriel gently sucked one of them into his mouth. The other one was next and by the time Gabriel was done, not a single inch was untouched by his tongue. And Sam was left in no doubt that if there hadn't been the issue of safe sex, Gabriel would have continued downward. The teasing right under his sack made Sam lightheaded just from the promise, and he found himself thinking of getting tested, just so he would get to feel Gabriel's clever tongue there as well.

 

But all thought stuttered to a halt when Gabriel returned to Sam's cock, and squeezed his lips brutally tight around the head before sliding it in deeper. Sam hissed, the pressure almost too much, but he was helpless to resist and pushed against it. And this time Gabriel didn't pull off. Instead he kept his lips tight and took his hands off Sam entirely. Bracing himself on the couch on either side of Sam's legs, he glanced up at Sam in clear challenge. And goddammit, Sam was just not about to refuse that. He thrust up carefully, but Gabriel frowned and smacked his hip, obviously not happy with the pace.

 

“Impatient,” Sam huffed and reached out to take hold of Gabriel's hair, pulling his head closer instead of thrusting his hips. To Sam's surprise, Gabriel let him. So he brought his other hand up as well, holding Gabriel's head firmly in his hands and setting a faster rhythm. Gabriel groaned, and Sam had to grit his teeth to not thrust in as hard as possible. He could still feel the anger simmer under his skin, but Gabriel's words of caution were still fresh in his mind, so he kept it in check. But this turned out to be a mistake, because after only a few glorious moments Gabriel pulled out of Sam's grip and off his cock.

 

“What part of _angry sex_ confuses you?” he snapped, and Sam didn't know what to say to that, so he just shrugged.

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Kiddo, we're not playing right now. I'm asking you to let off some steam here, so let me fucking have it already!”

 

Sam spent a long baffled moment just staring, but then Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him in a clear gesture of mocking, and somehow that just clicked with Sam's anger. In a swift movement he pulled Gabriel up off the floor and manhandled him to sit on the low coffee table. Sam then got to his feet and now that he wasn't trapped in the soft cushions of Gabriel's couch, he was free to shove his hips at Gabriel's face, hand clenching in his hair, keeping his head still. At this height Gabriel only had to dip his head a little to get at Sam's cock, and he sent Sam a cheeky grin before opening his mouth wide, inviting Sam in.

 

At the first thrust Sam bumped Gabriel's palate hard enough that it forced a strained noise through his nose. And Sam would have stopped, but Gabriel frowned at him angrily and pulled at his hips, so Sam grabbed Gabriel's head with both hands again and let himself fuck Gabriel's welcoming mouth. The noises of strain and occasional gagging only got more frequent, but just as Sam started getting uncomfortable about it, Gabriel made it clear he was on board by reaching down to rub himself through his pants.

 

Sam lost it at that, and thrust without consideration. Gabriel grunted from the rough treatment, but every sound only made Sam's lust throb harder, and he swiftly built up to a toe-curling orgasm, his anger still hot in his blood. He held Gabriel's head close as he emptied into the ridiculous condom with a shout, and as soon as he let go, Gabriel pulled in a desperate breath and yanked his pants open so he could bring himself off with frantic jerking and panting.

 

Falling back onto the couch, Sam spent a few minutes just getting his lungs working right again and Gabriel did the same. They were a mess, both still dressed, only their softening dicks hanging out, and the cherry condom slowly sliding free. Sam eased it off and dropped it into something that looked like an ashtray on a side-table next to the couch, before asking the question that had been niggling at him from the moment his blood came back to his brain.

 

“Are you sure you're a dom? I mean... you enjoyed that, right?”

 

Gabriel stared and then he laughed. Loudly. To the point where Sam got uncomfortable. “I'm gonna blame that one on the fact that you just shot your brains out through your dick,” Gabriel wheezed.

 

Thinking it over, Sam did realize the stupidity of the question. He himself had enjoyed taking the lead pretty much exclusively up to that point, and if Gabriel ever let him truly run the show, Sam was sure he'd like that too. But he still got the feeling that it wasn't the whole story.

 

“Yeah, but... I mean, it seemed like you _really_ liked it.”

 

As his laugh finally trailed off, Gabriel gave Sam a long look and then sighed. “All right, Sam. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret of BDSM. It's not all about the dom getting off on being a commanding bastard. It's just as much about giving the sub what they want. What they _need_. Some subs need to be ignored, mistreated or humiliated. But they only get that if the dom knows and cares. Being the dom means taking responsibility for the sub's well-being, just as much as being a sub means seeing to the needs of the dom. And to tell you the truth, I kinda wish this could be stamped on the forehead on every BDSM participant in the world.” He sighed again and rubbed his neck. “It took me too long to learn, and when I finally did, I found out that I like it. I like making sure my boys are okay. That they enjoy what I do and that they go home not regretting a thing. I get off on that. So yeah. I liked seeing to your needs for once.” He then grinned. “And of course, if we're lucky, now you'll have burned off enough steam for us to make a night of it. Because lemme tell ya, kiddo... I got _plans_.”

 

The emphasis on that last word made Sam's stomach do flip-flops, and he had to swallow forcefully. “Yeah?”

 

“Oh yeah. But only if you're okay,” Gabriel said, his eyes serious. So Sam took a moment to think it over. He was still angry at Dean, and whenever he went home again, there would probably be more shouting. But at the present moment Sam felt mellow and content, orgasm-lax and calm. And he was definitely interested in learning more about Gabriel's plans for the night.

 

“I'm good,” Sam said firmly.

 

“Fantastic,” Gabriel purred, and to Sam's delight he then got up and leaned over Sam for a long, slow kiss. Sam enjoyed kissing in general, but considering how sparingly Gabriel had so far offered Sam any, it was like every single one set his entire body alight. And Gabriel was good at it. Good at licking into all the little nooks Sam didn't even know he had, coaxing previously ignored nerves to life with tiny flicks of tongue. Sam moaned into the kiss and felt his dick valiantly trying to get hard again already, as Gabriel slipped carefully down to straddle Sam's lap.

 

Eventually Gabriel moved away from Sam's now oversensitive lips, and instead nipped his way across the smooth jaw up to Sam's ear, licking the shell while puffing out hot breaths that roared in Sam's ears from the closeness.

 

“Time for your next lesson,” Gabriel breathed, making Sam whimper. “I'm gonna touch you everywhere tonight, pet. Learn everything about this amazing body of yours. So you're gonna let me know when I'm on the right track. When I'm done, there won't be an inch of you left for anyone else. It'll all be mine.”

 

Sam could hear himself panting in the half-dark of the living room, and he shivered at Gabriel's words.

 

“Yes... all yours,” he whispered, vaguely disturbed by how eagerly he allowed Gabriel to own him. The marks from their last time were all but faded, and Sam found that he could hardly wait to have new ones made.

 

“This is how it's gonna go. I'm going to touch you and then you are going to tell me if it's good, bad or not sure. Some day, I'm gonna want to test your limits, so tonight we'll put on our training wheels.” Gabriel's voice was low and hot in Sam's ear, and he felt his skin prickle with goosebumps from anticipation.

 

“O-okay.”

 

“So if I do this–” Gabriel nipped Sam's earlobe with his teeth, only just sharp enough to be painful, and Sam hissed at the pain-pleasure sensation. “–you're gonna say green light if it feels good. If it's not good, red light. If you're not sure, yellow. Understand?”

 

“Yes, yes I understand.”

 

“And your safeword is...?”

 

“Cherub. Red light, green light, yellow light. Got it,” Sam gasped, urging Gabriel on, because even just the feeling of Gabriel's hands on his shoulders was enough to get Sam's blood thumping, and the thought of getting much much more of the same was making him dizzy.

 

“Are you sure?” Gabriel said sharply, pinching Sam's nipple, _hard,_ without warning through his shirt.

 

Sam winced and curled in on himself slightly. “Yeah, I get it, red light. Ow.”

 

“Good boy.” Gabriel gave Sam one last lush kiss before sliding off his lap again and stepping away. “You know where the bedroom is. Undress and go lie down on the bed. I'll be with you in a minute.”

 

Sam took a couple of seconds to get his vision unblurred from the haze of anticipation before scrambling up off the couch and almost running to the bedroom, shedding his clothes as he went. He had learned last time that Gabriel didn't care about mess. He cared about being obeyed swiftly. And Sam sure wasn't going to risk not getting what Gabriel promised him this time.


	3. Chapter 3

The first night they'd spent together had been one long torturous test of how long Sam could bear not being touched before going insane. Gabriel had kept him on edge with words and looks alone for hours, and only near the end of the marathon of teasing had he given in to the urge to touch, the temptation to mark Sam's flushed skin obviously too great to resist. The quick handjob Sam had gotten in the shower the morning after had felt almost overwhelmingly physical in comparison.

 

He threw himself down onto the huge, luxurious bed as soon as his last thread was off, rolled onto his back and willed himself to calm down. He'd just managed to relax when Gabriel walked in, wearing only a pair of red satin pajama pants, and Sam's breathing immediately picked up again.

 

“Good, Sam. That's good,” Gabriel praised, and shut the door behind him. For a moment he just stood there, looking his fill of Sam's entire body laid out before him, and without really thinking about it, Sam arched slightly, stretched his limbs and made a complete wanton display of himself. Gabriel's gaze was heavy on him and he moved under it like a physical caress, hungry for more.

 

“Gorgeous,” Gabriel breathed, and for a brief moment he seemed lost in it. But then the moment passed and he snapped back into himself, assertive, confident and determined. He went over and sat on the bed next to Sam's hip, not close enough to touch, but Sam felt the dip in the bed and the heat from Gabriel's skin so close.

 

“Give me your hand.”

 

Gabriel took Sam's hand between both of his own, turned it over and at first just looked at it from all angles, as if it was somehow really interesting. Sam frowned, not sure what the deal was. It was just a hand. Then Gabriel started brushing gentle fingertips across Sam's palm, around every digit, scratching lightly at the webbing between the fingers, and Sam was a little shocked at how much pleasure he got from so little. He was used to somewhat rougher treatment, his usual hookups at the fetish club being what they were. Not to mention Ruby. She'd wanted things brutal. So yeah, Sam was used to a firmer hand, and honestly, he'd been waiting for something along those lines ever since he first gave thought to this whole BDSM deal.

 

But that didn't change how every tiny hair on Sam's skin stood up straight as Gabriel made his way around every inch and worked his way up Sam's arm, only stopping when he reached the shoulder. Then he got up, leaving Sam shivering on the sheets, while he went around the bed, sat on the other side and started on the other hand.

 

Gabriel's fingers weren't soft, despite the kind of job Sam assumed he had, but they weren't heavily calloused either. Just hands that saw occasional physical labor. But soft or not, they were almost heartbreakingly gentle as they made their way across Sam's skin, and by the time the other arm was done, Sam was panting.

 

“How are we doing, pet?” Gabriel whispered, eyes luminous and bewitching.

 

“Uhm,” Sam croaked, throat dry. “Green light.”

 

“Good.”

 

Gabriel then got on the bed and in one slow move straddled Sam's waist. The warm press of his thighs through the satin against Sam's middle was delicious, and Sam arched up towards it, already desperate for more.

 

“Shhh, Sammy. Keep still. I got it,” Gabriel murmured, stroking Sam's chest soothingly like he was a jittery horse. Sam quieted down with effort. Gabriel had a way of turning him desperate in no time at all, and had Sam had any say in the proceedings he could have gotten himself off fine just rutting against Gabriel's soft legs.

 

But of course, Gabriel wasn't done yet. He went back to the careful stroking, starting with Sam's face. His hands made warm paths across Sam's forehead, his cheeks, nose, lips and chin. To Sam's delight he even leaned in for a tiny peck of a kiss before moving lower, palms ghosting over Sam's neck, collar bones and pectoral muscles. The nipples got a little more attention, first pressed down by a firm thumb and then coaxed back to peaks by gentle fingertips. Sam whimpered from it, and Gabriel licked his lips above him, gently petting Sam's stomach.

 

“Talk to me, gorgeous.”

 

“G-green light,” Sam whispered.

 

Gabriel nodded, satisfied, before getting up, turning himself around and sitting down again in the same place, but this time facing the foot of the bed. He then put his palms on Sam's thighs and slid both hands downwards in one sinuous move, past Sam's knees all the way to his feet. It was nice in its own right, but had never really been a sensitive area for Sam. Instead he found himself mesmerized by the flexing of Gabriel's back, the urge to reach out and put both hands on the wings of his shoulder-blades suddenly almost impossible to resist.

 

He must have made a noise, because Gabriel stopped his slow caress of Sam's arches and cast a glance back at him.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Nothing. Green light. I'm good.”

 

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Sam over his shoulder and sat up again, clearly not completely happy with the answer. “You sure?”

 

Sam nodded firmly. “Yes. Yeah, I just... wanna touch you,” he admitted.

 

For a moment Gabriel just looked at him with pursed lips, considering. “All right then, pet. Fair is fair. You can touch. But don't get carried away, now. We wouldn't want to rush things, now would we?”

 

“N-no,” Sam agreed, hardly knowing what he was agreeing to, at that moment only aware that he'd just been allowed to feel Gabriel. Sam's hands shook as they unclenched from the sheets and cautiously reached for Gabriel's back. From the way his eyebrows raised, it wasn't what he'd expected Sam to go for, but he smiled and arched back against it when Sam molded his hands to Gabriel's shoulders and finally indulged himself.

 

It was more a massage than a caress, but for some reason Sam hungered to feel the muscle beneath, and dug his fingers into Gabriel's shoulders and traced the bumps of his spine. He strayed to the ribs briefly, his large hands easily spanning Gabriel's smaller frame, but almost immediately he went back to the shoulders. His breath quickened, and the fire in his gut roared, despite the fact that his cock hadn't even been touched once. But the closeness he was suddenly allowed was intoxicating, and waves of desire crashed in on him with every sweep of his hands.

 

“I think that's enough for now,” Gabriel said, a definite hoarseness to his voice. Sam had to clench his teeth hard enough that they creaked, forcing himself to remove his hands from Gabriel's warm, smooth skin.

 

“Better get back to the program, hm? After all, we have plans, you and me,” Gabriel purred, his voice almost back to normal, even if his skin was flushed and there was a noticeable tent in his pajama pants now.

 

He then got off Sam again, sat down next to him on the bed exactly where he started and began retracing his steps, starting again with Sam's hands.

 

Only this time, he took the trip with lips, teeth and tongue. By the time Gabriel's tongue met the inside of Sam's elbow he was begging.

 

“Fuck, please,” he whined, all too aware that Gabriel had skipped his groin entirely on the first pass. Which was probably a good idea, but no less frustrating.

 

“Please what, Sam?”

 

“Please give me more. Something. Anything.”

 

Gabriel tsked at him. “Now, Sam, we've only just gotten started! If you're begging already, then maybe you just can't handle what's coming?”

 

The promise in those words made small fireworks go off somewhere in Sam's mind and he clamped down on his arousal as harshly as he could, because there was no way in hell he was missing out on whatever was going to happen.

 

“No, no, I can take it, I swear!”

 

“Positive?”

 

“Yes, yes, green light, please, oh God.”

 

“Hmm,” Gabriel hummed, fingertips playing lightly over Sam's upper arm. “I'm thinking maybe we need to dial things down a bit. Whaddya say, Sam?”

 

Sam wanted to argue that no, he very much did _not_ want to take things slower, but Gabriel's voice had that note of firmness in it which Sam had already learned meant that he wasn't really asking for Sam's opinion. So Sam forced his breathing to slow and staunchly ignored the way his groin throbbed.

 

“My sweet pet,” Gabriel murmured, his approval dripping onto Sam like warm syrup, making him shudder with delight. “So good. Obedient. _Mine_.”

 

Even though Sam would hardly consider them a couple, or in any sort of real relationship, while they were playing their games it would seem nothing got his heart racing more than Gabriel stating his ownership of Sam. And not only in a lustful way. Sam felt like his whole body was tingling and sighed from it, meeting Gabriel's heated eyes with dazed delight.

 

“Turn over, sweetheart,” Gabriel purred, and Sam obeyed, his limbs slow and heavy as he settled on his front. For a long moment nothing happened, and Sam felt cold even though the bedroom was warm. But then Gabriel's hands settled on Sam's back and pressed him deeper into the mattress as he was straddled again. Sam groaned, because that was unexpectedly good. Just feeling the weight of Gabriel using him for support to lever himself up made lust quiver down Sam's spine, and he found himself wondering what it might feel like if Gabriel actually put some force behind it, pushing him down.

 

Sam had been with one or two men who were bigger and stronger than himself, but he'd never actually been held down. Tied up, sure. Even stepped on a few times. But considering his size, he supposed it was to be expected. Gabriel wasn't even that heavy, but he was strong and Sam was willing to bet that with the right angle and force he could easily mold Sam to the bed and keep him still. And holy crap, he wanted that so bad.

 

“Green li-hight,” he stuttered out on the tail end of his groan, because he wanted there to be no doubt how much he liked that.

 

Gabriel stopped dead for a second, but then he settled himself down firmly on Sam's back and gave him a little squeeze with his thighs. “Oh, sweetheart, you're making it very hard for me to remember my plans here.”

 

“You told me to let you know,” Sam argued weakly, and Gabriel chuckled.

 

“True. And you're doing exactly what I told you, like a good pet. Keep this up and I promise we'll end this night on a high note.”

 

“Thank fuck,” Sam breathed, making Gabriel huff out another soft laugh. Then he started again, sliding his fingers through Sam's hair, down the back of his neck and onto his shoulders, moving steadily downwards.

 

“Thing is, kiddo,” Gabriel said softly, as his hands danced across Sam's back. “You get carried away a lot. For the record, I think that's really wonderful, but tonight I need you to stay focused a bit longer, okay?”

 

Sam nodded into the pillow and made a conscious effort to not drown in the feeling of Gabriel's warm hands sliding over his skin.

 

“I mean, so far we've had a lovely wave of green light, which is always awesome. But what would you say if I were to do this?” He reached up and unceremoniously yanked out a few strands of Sam's tousled hair. Sam twitched and immediately said “Red! Red light.” The pain was nothing, but he was really, really fond of his hair, no matter how much shit he got from Dean about it.

 

“That's what I thought,” Gabriel said smugly and started his gentle stroking again, and Sam might have been imagining it, but it felt like an apology, one he gladly accepted and settled down again, snuggling into Gabriel's soft pillows. Even though Gabriel had just deliberately done something Sam didn't like, he still felt so fucking cherished and cared for that it felt like his heart would burst.

 

He'd always sort of naïvely assumed that being bored with vanilla sex meant that he needed it rough. Probably an effect of accepting the teachings of a hellcat like Ruby. But he'd learned in the year or so he'd been using the fetish club that he liked other things as well. However, what Gabriel was doing to him was an epiphany. Sam had never liked gentle. For hugging, handholding and other not explicitly sexual activities, sure, he loved some sweet and slow contact. But for getting himself off, he needed more. Applying more force had always worked, so he'd built on that.

 

What he was quickly learning here, though, was that the force applied worked just as well when it was merely psychological. Just knowing that punishment would be swift and harsh if he disobeyed was enough to stoke his fires to a delirious roar. He still found himself hoping that Gabriel would allow him a firmer treatment at some point, but until that time came, Sam was really very satisfied already.

 

At least until Gabriel jammed his fingers into Sam's armpits and _tickled._ Sam squeaked and unconsciously tried to pull away. Gabriel followed without mercy. “What color, kiddo?” he asked sharply and Sam had to struggle for a moment to remember his options. “Uhm, I don't– fuck, yellow light!”

 

Gabriel immediately removed his fingers and when back to stroking Sam's back. “Perfect. You're doing so well, such a good pet.”

 

Sam damn near purred from Gabriel's words. Evidently he was a slut for praise, because even though he felt tight as a bowstring after the surprise attack he still arched up into Gabriel's hands, mindlessly asking for more. And Gabriel gave him more. Moving lower to sit on Sam's thighs, Gabriel pressed his thumbs in with steady pressure along Sam's spine and down the small of his back, drawing out the tension as if pulling a string, unraveling a knot.

 

“Good boy. That's my good boy,” Gabriel crooned and finally – fucking _finally_ – put his hands somewhere more interesting. He gently cupped Sam's ass with both palms, and stroked his thumbs gently across the skin, brushing the crack. Sam shivered and helplessly pushed back against it, but that only made Gabriel take his hands away, so Sam immediately forced himself to still. Gabriel's murmured words of appreciation for Sam's restraint almost undid him again, but he clenched the sheets and instead whispered “green light,” which to his delight made Gabriel bend down and pepper small kisses across both buttocks.

 

“Ready to test those traffic lights again?” he mumbled against Sam's skin, making goosebumps break out everywhere. Sam just had time to brace himself for another surprise attack of something possibly uncomfortable, and then Gabriel sat up and cracked his hand down sharply on Sam's right buttock. A shock of pleasure shot right through Sam and he cried out from the rush of it. He was taken completely by surprise, having expected something he wouldn't like. Getting something instead that was very high on his list of personal kinks was mindblowing after all the time of getting next to nothing, and he shoved his cock into the mattress, utterly unable to stop himself from rutting there. It took him a few breaths to realize that he was chanting “green, green, green” in time with his thrusts and that Gabriel was stock still on top of him. But even the crushing doubt of maybe doing something wrong was not enough to stop Sam, and he undulated minutely, Gabriel's gaze heavy on his back, leaving guilt in its wake.

 

“Well damn,” Gabriel said finally, and then bent down closer to Sam's ear, again bracing himself on Sam's back with both hands.

 

“You just ruined a perfectly good plan, boy,” Gabriel rumbled, voice bordering on a snarl. “But lucky for you, I'm in a good mood. So I'm gonna let you have this. But don't get too comfy. We'll be back in business soon enough.”

 

Unsure what he meant, Sam only whimpered in response. With a brief push Gabriel sat back up and without even pausing for breath let his other hand slam down on Sam's left buttock. Sam wailed and pushed back for more, and without pause Gabriel slapped again and again, alternating between sides fast enough that the reddened skin barely even had time to cool.

 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , green, _fuck_ , green, green, _green_ ,” Sam babbled, and Gabriel slapped him harder.

 

“Typical,” he grunted, the effort of his strikes evident in the strain of his voice.

 

“I had,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“Plans,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“For tonight,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“And you just,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“Had,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“To ruin them,”

 

 _Slap_.

 

“Didn't you?”

 

 _Slap_.

 

Sam heard the words, but he was too far gone and they didn't make any real sense to him. After all the touching and the holding back and the testing, Sam had already been hovering on a knife's edge of lust, ready to tumble into oblivion at the slightest push. And this wasn't a push. This was a _kick_ , and Sam soared off the edge, sobbing with every slam of sensation that should have been pain but was all pleasure. He came into the sheets, keening and gasping, writhing under Gabriel's weight on his legs, almost bucking him off. But Gabriel just lifted up slightly and let Sam squirm, still letting the slaps rain down until Sam finally stilled. Then it trailed off, until it was only a gentle pat to each side, followed by a heartbreakingly gentle slide of his searing palms, dragging paths of fire over Sam's abused skin.

 

The aftershocks of pleasure slowly becoming pain again had Sam hissing and whimpering, but it was still good, and he croaked “green light,” even as the throbbing of his rear became almost overwhelming. Hardly had he said the words before there was a flurry of movement above him. He felt the brush of Gabriel's knuckles on his thigh as he pulled down his pajama pants and then heard the tell-tale moist sounds of flesh on flesh as Gabriel jerked himself off at a furious pace. Barely half a minute later Gabriel started panting out a litany of “shit, shit, shit, _shit_ ,” his right hand clenching on Sam's flaming buttock with a flash of pain, before hot liquid splattered across Sam's lower back and ass, every drop feeling like melted candle wax, leaving stinging trails on his reddened skin.

 

Gabriel exhaled harshly and collapsed forwards, only barely catching himself with his hands on either side of Sam before he accidentally landed on the tender flesh of his ass. Gabriel's cock was resting snugly in the crack, the skin there not having gotten as harsh treatments as the rest, and Sam liked how he could feel the fading hardness, still throbbing from aftershocks, and dribbling out one last drop of come.

 

“Jesus _Christ_ , Sam.”

 

“Mm hmm,” Sam agreed, feeling a heavy lassitude settle in his bones. He reached out and snagged one of the pillows that had escaped his grip during his thrashing about, and burrowed into it with a purr. He felt amazingly good just then, the painful burn of his rear barely putting a dent in his bliss.

 

“Hang on,” Gabriel said quietly, getting off Sam with a small groan and padding out of the room. Moments later he returned and Sam felt the bed dip as he sat down next to him. He twitched when he felt a cool cloth against his hip, placed there first as a gentle warning before sliding ever so carefully to his abused backside.

 

“I have some cold crème, if you want?” Gabriel murmured, while gently cleaning and wetting Sam's buttocks, and blowing a cooling breath across them that made Sam shiver from delighted oversensitivity.

 

“I'm good,” he sighed into the pillow, and never had the words felt more true. He felt _awesome_. He wouldn't be sitting down for a few hours, but that only made it better. That for hours there would be no chance of him forgetting how great he felt just then.

 

“You really are a bastard, you know that?” Gabriel said mildly, and Sam turned his head to glare at him with one eye until he rolled his eyes and clarified. “You just had to go and be so damn irresistible that I couldn't help but blow my fucking wad quite frankly _hours_ before I planned. I totally hadn't expected you to go nuts over that.”

 

Sam's eyebrows climbed higher. “Seriously? We met at a fetish club. How does this surprise you?”

 

“Clearly that innocent face of yours is turning me into an idiot.”

 

“Clearly.”

 

“Watch it, pet,” Gabriel said warningly, but without his usual tone of command, and Sam marveled at how Gabriel could say exactly the same words with completely different meanings just from how he said them.

 

While Sam snickered shamelessly, Gabriel disposed of the wash cloth and stretched himself out on the bed comfortably. He closed his eyes and stopped moving completely. Sam waited a confused minute before asking. “What are you doing?”

 

“Going to sleep.”

 

Sam blinked. He'd expected a break and maybe a drink of water before getting back to it. Considering Gabriel's boasts about not letting him leave until they were done, Sam was frankly baffled. “Seriously?”

 

Gabriel frowned at him. “Yeah, seriously. I'm pushing forty, Sam. Two orgasms a night is my limit, and trust me, nobody is more unhappy with this fact that me. I need to sleep, just a couple of hours, and then I'm good to go again.”

 

“But... you're not tired, are you?” Gabriel shook his head with a frustrated sigh. “So how's sleep gonna help?”

  
“No clue.” Gabriel shrugged. “For all I know Santa's little elves could be coming in here at night, winding up my dick like a goddamn set of walking dentures. All I know is that I go to sleep, and when I wake up there's a boner. It's like magic. So go the fuck to sleep.”

 

Sam blinked and felt his cheek tug into a small grin, but he accepted the explanation, squirmed around to find a less wet spot to lie on, and got himself comfortable for a little nap. Not that he was really tired either, but he could always doze.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this. Truly.

 

The next time he opened his eyes, he panicked. It was completely dark. Gabriel had apparently turned off the soft bedside light at some point, and the sky outside was inky black behind the thin curtains. Sam could hear the soft breaths of deep sleep next to him, but nothing else, and his entire body clenched up with sudden, shocking terror. What the hell was he even doing here? For all he knew, Gabriel could be some kind of creep just waiting to catch him off guard and do God knows what to him. A small logical part of Sam's brain piped up that the last time he was here, all that occurred during sleep had been rather a lot more snuggling than he'd expected, but all of his higher brain functions were slowly being strangled by his panic.

 

What kind of weirdo was he anyway, needing a goddamn fetish club to feel good about his sorry self? Not smart or strong enough to get his rocks off in a decent way, so instead he went out and did all these insane things, begging strangers for more, following his dick like a fucked up compass needle of depravity. Ruby had been right. No one would ever want a fuck-up like him, especially once they got to see what a loser he was, begging on his knees to be spanked, to be slapped, to be _hurt_. What kind of person _liked_ that shit?

 

He choked on a sob, and there was a soft sound next to him as Gabriel stirred. _Oh no_.

 

In a flash he rolled away, trying to avoid Gabriel, but he wasn't fast enough, and a hand closed around his wrist like a band of iron just as he got out of the bed.

 

“Stay,” Gabriel ordered, throat scratchy from sleep, but his tone of command immaculate. Despite his terror and disgust with himself, there was no way Sam could disobey that tone, and he sat down heavily on the bed, defeated, the sting of his still sore buttocks a taunting reminder of his earlier deviance. Once Gabriel was sure Sam wasn't going anywhere he got to his knees and gently came up behind him.

 

“Sam... Sam talk to me,” Gabriel's voice was soft now, not a trace of command to be found, and somehow it only made Sam feel worse, because he couldn't get out a single word. Fucked up as he was, he couldn't even follow orders right, and now Gabriel had to comfort him like he was some toddler tripping over his own feet.

 

He sobbed again, feeling horrid with shame as tears started streaking down his cheeks. Gabriel was right behind him on the bed, his hands carefully settling on Sam's shoulders, rubbing the muscle in soothing circles.

 

“You'll be okay, Sam,” he murmured. “It's just a sub drop, it'll pass.”

 

Sam wasn't entirely sure what that meant, and that just made him feel stupid on top of everything else. By chance, Gabriel shifted close enough that Sam felt his half-hard cock brush his back through the pajama pants he was still wearing, and in a burst of desperate inspiration Sam whirled around and tackled Gabriel onto the bed. He checked quickly by rubbing his cheek on the satin fabric covering Gabriel's thigh– yes, he was still smooth, he could do this. He could show Gabriel that he wasn't entirely useless. He frantically pulled down the front of the pants and thrust his face at Gabriel's groin, but he'd hardly even gotten his lips around the head of Gabriel increasingly less interested dick before he was roughly shoved off.

 

“Sam, no, stop!”

 

Gabriel hadn't even used his dom voice, but Sam still backed off as if burned, and promptly crumbled in on himself, curling up in the middle of the bed, weeping shamefully. He'd fucked up again. He literally was the most useless excuse for a human being.

 

“Sam, Jesus,” Gabriel whispered, and for some unfathomable reason he scooted up close, cradled Sam's disgusting snotty face in his hands and settled Sam's head in his lap.

 

“Shhhh. It's okay, Sam. It's okay. Whatever thoughts are going through your head right now, they're lies. You hear me? They're all lies, baby.”

 

Sam really couldn't believe that, but he was selfish, and Gabriel's lap was warm and soft. Gabriel's fingers were gentle as they combed through Sam's messy hair and he just felt so comfortable lying there, even though he was pretty sure he was leaving a slimy wet spot on Gabriel's thigh.

 

“I'm so sorry, I should have warned you this could happen with dominance and submission games,” Gabriel said, his voice low and soothing. “It's called a sub drop, but it can happen to doms too. You just crash emotionally, and while you're there it's the most horrible thing in the world, but it'll pass, Sam. I swear, it'll pass.”

 

Hardly taking it in, Sam didn't react. He just stayed where he was, his tears slowly trailing off. When Gabriel offered him a tissue, conjured from who knew where, Sam cautiously accepted.

 

“I can't imagine what's going through your head right now,” Gabriel said, his voice hushed in the dark. “Everyone experiences these things differently.” Sam could hear the loud click of his throat as he swallowed before continuing. “When it happens to me... usually my head tells me that I'm a freak. That I'm too fucked up to function and that I should just fucking kill myself before I molest some poor animal or a kid. Because obviously I'm some kinda psychopath, or at the very least a sinner, and the good Lord himself will come down here and throw me into purgatory by the scruff of my neck to burn forever with all the other sickos.”

 

Gabriel's words made Sam's throat close up again, and he sat up gingerly, seeking out Gabriel's shining eyes in the dark.

 

“That's...” he trailed off, his voice rough and not obeying him, and Gabriel took over.

 

“Crazy? Stupid? Lies? Yeah. It's all of that, Sam. And whatever your head is telling you right now, don't listen.” He edged closer, still on his knees, which brought him to eye level with Sam. His hands were warm as he gently settled them on Sam's cheeks. “It's just the flip side of the coin, pet. The price you pay for that amazing feeling a really good scene can get you. As great as you feel during your high, you can feel just as bad during a low. But I swear to you here and now... as long as you're honest enough to admit you feel like crap, and as long as you're willing to accept help, it _will_ pass.”

 

Gabriel's thumbs stroked Sam's damp cheeks slowly, and Sam let the words sink in. Let himself hope that what Gabriel said really was true. That maybe in the light of day his thoughts wouldn't sound so brutally true.

 

“What do you need?” Gabriel asked, his eyes fixed on Sam, brimming with sincerity. “Right now. Whatever might make you feel better, you name it.”

 

Not in any state of mind to really want anything good for himself, Sam hesitated, so Gabriel pressed on. “Ice cream? Hot shower? A blanket? Or, God forbid, herbal tea?”

 

Sam chuckled weakly at the shudder in Gabriel's voice over the concept of healthy things as comfort, and going on instinct he leaned in and caught Gabriel's lips with his own in what must have been a gross kiss, considering the state of his face. But Gabriel welcomed it, kissing back so gently that Sam felt like he was made of glass and could shatter at the smallest push. Which probably wasn't too far off the mark.

 

“Sure, okay,” Gabriel murmured against Sam's lips. “You got it, kiddo.” And before Sam could ask, Gabriel coaxed Sam to lie down, stretched himself out by his side and slowly moved in for another kiss.

 

Sam lost track of time after that. Gabriel just stayed there with him, sharing soft kisses and carefully stroking his hair, his arms or his back. In Sam's view it couldn't even be called making out. It was all entirely too chaste. But it had the intended effect, and Sam slowly started feeling better. Gabriel's almost reverent touches made Sam feel cared for, almost precious, and as the sky outside slowly brightened with the approach of dawn, Sam drifted off to sleep again mid-kiss.

 

When Sam woke up again, the sun was high in the sky and the bed was empty. But before he could feel any real disappointment about that fact the mattress dipped behind him and there was a gentle thunk of something being set down on the bedside table. A soft hand then trailed up his arm, stroking the skin soothingly.

 

“Rise and shine, kiddo,” Gabriel called softly.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Around ten.”

 

Sam scrunched his eyes shut. “Aw crap. I'd hoped to be on my way home by now.”

 

“Yeah, well, you crashed pretty hard last night. You needed the rest.”

 

The memories washed over Sam at those words and he sat up slowly, not meeting Gabriel's eyes.

 

“Look, about that–”

 

“Before you say anything, lemme just apologize. I was an idiot for not explaining to you that this could happen. I didn't think we were getting that intense yet, but that's no excuse, especially since you're a newbie. I should have known better, and I'm sorry I left you unprepared for this.”

 

While he spoke, Gabriel picked up one of the two steaming mugs he'd set down next to the bed, and thrust it under Sam's nose. “Two sugars, right?”

 

Sam blinked and mutely accepted the coffee.

 

“Don't go thinking you have to explain anything to me,” Gabriel continued. “I'm the pro here, and I should have used my common sense, instead of assuming your choir boy face was any kind of indication of your experience. Like you so aptly pointed out, I did pick you up in a club for kinks, I should have expected you to wanna move things along.”

 

“I want to, though. Explain something, I mean,” Sam said, when Gabriel finally stopped talking and picked up his own mug. “Because you're not all wrong. I haven't been going to the club for that long. Only since last year.” He paused to take a sip of coffee before saying more, and Gabriel followed his example with his own heavily sugared and milk-diluted coffee, letting him take his time.

 

“I've... tried a few things, but... for the first few months at least I only got up the nerve to actually do anything if I was hammered. I don't remember half of the things I did then. I was... kind of in a bad place.”

 

Gabriel nodded, and Sam wasn't sure if he was just being sympathetic or if he genuinely understood. But given his admission in the night, Sam wagered that he had an inkling.

 

“I was with this girl... Ruby. She knew the moment she laid eyes on me. Knew that I was...” he trailed off, not sure what the appropriate word would be.

 

“A freak,” Gabriel supplied, and took the edge off with a wry smile. “Yeah, I know. I've been there. I'm guessing this Ruby chick was bad for you?”

 

“You have no idea. She got me so messed up I almost got the both of us killed. And to tell you the truth, I think she would have liked it that way. Go all tragic romance like... Bonny and Clyde or something.” Sam sighed, unable to meet Gabriel's eyes, but still felt it was important to reveal this about himself. He'd been reluctant to share anything personal earlier, worried that Gabriel would use it against him somehow, but now he was more concerned about Gabriel accidentally making some bad calls because he didn't have all the facts.

 

“Thing is... those things going through my head last night... those things used to go through my head every day. And Ruby would tell me it was all true. When she was finally gone, my brother pretty much forced me to make some changes in my life. I had some therapy, some drug treatment, but it was a long time before I was ready to really open up to it. I've only been working on accepting this side of myself for a few months.” He smiled without mirth. “So you were right. I am a newbie. At least in the business of not hating myself.”

 

Gabriel set down his mug with a hard clonk, and when Sam looked up, his lips were pinched and his eyes pained.

 

“Sam, listen to me. I know we've only known each other for a couple of weeks, but I promise you here and now that however long we decide to keep doing this thing, I will do my absolute best to never make you feel like that again. I might fuck up, because I'm only human, but please trust me; I would never... _ever_... deliberately make you feel bad about yourself. No one deserves to be treated like that. Least of all you. You're an amazing guy, Sam.”

 

“Look, man, all we've done is have sex a handful of times. You can't possibly know that,” Sam argued, feeling a little flushed, but ultimately not believing what he was hearing. “All you could really know is how good I am in bed.”

 

“Well yeah. You are actually very good in bed,” Gabriel said with a wink. “But I also know that you're kind, generous, empathic and smart. I know you love your brother very much, even though he makes you insanely angry, and bottom line, Sam... you're a good person.”

 

Sam froze. He honestly had no idea what to do with that. His first instinct was to laugh it off, because seriously, how could Gabriel even know that? He had to be kidding. And no one had ever said so many nice things about Sam in a single sentence. Not even Dean. Perhaps especially not Dean, who was much more likely to show his love in gruff gestures than express it verbally.

 

So how the hell was he supposed to respond?

 

Gabriel seemed to realize that Sam was struggling, because when the uncomfortable silence kept dragging on he leaned in, plucked the half-empty mug out of Sam's hands, and smoothly straddled him.

 

“Well. I don't know about you, but my weekend is _wide_ open,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, as if he was already bored at the prospect of so many free hours. “Whatever will I do with all that time?”

 

As uncomfortable as he still was, this at least Sam knew how to work with. “I dunno. I thought you said you were creative?”

 

“I am. But every artist needs his muse, and mine said something about leaving,” Gabriel pouted.

 

“Oh,” Sam nodded sagely, playing along. “Well, maybe if your muse got a good enough offer he could stick around for a bit longer?”

 

“I've got a razor and rock steady hands,” Gabriel announced with a waggle of eyebrows.

 

Knowing what was on the table, and remembering his behavior only hours previous, Sam hesitated. But then he decided that this was one issue he was actually quite happy to face _head on_ , as it were. And maybe it was all the positive re-enforcement, or maybe Sam was just feeling sappy after his emotional night, but he couldn't help but pull Gabriel closer by the hips, not really pressing them together in any interesting places, just closing the distance slightly.

 

“To tell you the truth, I don't give blow jobs all that often,” he said carefully, before meeting Gabriel's heated eyes with his own. “But... I've been told I'm very good at it. And I really wanna hear what kind of noises _you_ make.”

 

Gabriel's throat bobbed wildly for a second, but in the next breath he was all business, and the game was on.

 

By the time Sam eventually did get home he was shaved, hickied and happy. And Dean completely _flipped his shit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between this chapter and the next there is a small timestamp, [Rock Steady Indeed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2586092). It won't have an effect on the rest of the fic to read it now, but here's the link to it. :)


	5. Chapter 5

“Yello, you've got Gabe on the line, you lucky devil!”

 

“Hey,” Sam grinned. “I'm not disturbing you or anything?”

 

“Nah. Just boring old work. It can wait for five minutes,” Gabriel huffed. There was a slight pause before he spoke again, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, everything's fine. Just... wanted to hear your voice I guess. God, that sounds so lame.”

 

“Don't worry about it. It's actually not unusual for a sub to seek out reassurance from the dom, so if you're afraid you're falling in love with me or something, then you can relax. It doesn't necessarily mean anything.”

 

Gabriel's words made Sam feel vaguely disappointed. Not that he was aiming to fall in love. He still felt it would be too soon after Ruby's twisted idea of a relationship. But still... it was something to ponder in more depth at a later time. For the moment at least, he accepted Gabriel's explanation.

 

“So...” Gabriel said slowly. “If you're just calling to hear my voice, is there any particular topic I should aim for?”

 

“No, not really. To tell you the truth, I think what I really need right now is a friend. Dean is being... difficult.”

 

“Difficult how?”

 

Sam sighed and flopped down on his bed. He didn't have to be at work until noon, and had the apartment to himself those precious few hours in the morning when Dean was already at the autoshop.

 

“Well... when I came home Saturday he kinda blew up in my face. Said he could tell I'd been crying, and when he spotted a couple of the hickies he flipped the fuck out. Thought you were beating me or something.”

 

“What did you tell him, then?”

 

“The truth? I mean... what else could I tell him?” A thought occurred to Sam suddenly. “Oh, and I told him your name. Should I not have done that?”

 

“Hah,” Gabriel scoffed. “You can write it out in flickering neon if you want. It's not even remotely a secret that I like bossing corruptible young men around in sexy ways. Even my family knows, and lemme tell you, _that_ was an awkward conversation.”

 

“Really? And they're okay with it?”

 

“As much as they can be, I guess. They didn't disown me or anything, so there's that. They're awfully touchy about dirty jokes, though. As if saying the word _penis_ will call forth all seven sins in one blow.”

 

Sam couldn't help but snicker, even though something in Gabriel's voice made Sam think it wasn't quite so amusing in reality, which made his natural urge to help people kick in, hard.

 

“PENIS!” he barked, and even though Gabriel couldn't see, he looked around the room theatrically. “Nope. Didn't work.”

 

Gabriel wheezed with laughter on the other end of the phone, and Sam beamed to himself. Obviously his intense desire to please Gabriel also extended to making him laugh. It was a nice laugh. Unrestricted and full-bodied. Like Dean when he allowed himself to really let loose.

 

“Whoo,” Gabriel hiccuped weakly. “Damn, kiddo, I like you!”

 

The smile on Sam's face got impossibly wider at that. “So. How soon do you think we could pick up where we left off?” he asked. “Would be kind of a shame to wait until your marks are all gone again.”

 

The final trills of Gabriel's laughter cut off, like the flick of a switch, and it freaked Sam out for a second until Gabriel spoke again, his commanding voice firmly in place. “They'd better not be, pet.”

 

Sam swallowed hard, and a wave of heat surged through him. “Soon, then?” he croaked.

 

“Very soon.” There was a slight clatter and what sounded like the closing of a door on the other end. The hairs stood up on Sam's arms as he got the distinct feeling things were about to get interesting. “Got anywhere you need to be for the next half hour?”

 

“No. Don't have to leave here until eleven.”

 

“Then you'll undress right now and get on your bed.”

 

Sam jumped up and undressed so fast he tore at least one button, and he was winded by the time he laid back down. “Done.”

 

“Good. Tell me, pet. Which mark do you like best?”

 

Without a mirror it took Sam a moment to catalog the fairly large collection of hickies and bites he was gifted with two days earlier, some of which had made Dean go off the rails when he mistook them for bruising from abuse. Free to do as he pleased, Gabriel had left several large, dark blotches all the way up Sam's neck, impossible to cover up with clothing. And Sam had wanted it that way. “The bite by my left nipple,” he decided. It had almost broken the skin, and it was still an angry purple color.

 

“Still sore?”

 

“A little bit, yeah.”

 

“Do you think of me when it hurts?”

 

Sam's breath left him in a whoosh, and he couldn't help but trail his fingers over the tender spot. “Yes,” he whispered.

 

“You think of how good it felt when I gave it to you? Or how you'd like me to give you more?”

 

“Both. Jesus.” Sam was getting hard in no time at all, and he was already feeling the first hints of that particular breathlessness he was starting to associate with Gabriel.

 

“You're touching it now. Aren't you?”

 

“Yes. Is that okay?” he asked, worried that he'd be told to stop.

 

“Oh, that's perfect, my boy,” Gabriel purred. “Perfect.”

 

It was completely quiet on Gabriel's end of the phone, so Sam had no idea what Gabriel was doing, if anything. The self control he'd displayed on occasion left Sam in no doubt that if it suited Gabriel he could probably get Sam off over the phone and put his own needs aside until later. But he still couldn't help the little huff of laughter at the resurfacing thought of Gabriel trying to hide a significant hard-on at work.

 

“What's the joke, pet? Care to let me in on it?” Gabriel asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

 

“Oh, it's just...” As if to punish himself slightly for his blunder, he rubbed the bite a little harder, and whimpered from the twinge so close to his sensitive nipple. “It's just that... I'm already hard. If you are too, I guess you're gonna have a long day at work.”

 

“Don't you worry about that, gorgeous. But you'd better put me on speaker, because you're about to be put to work yourself.”

 

“Done,” Sam said, almost before it was actually done, his voice already thin with shivering need. There was just something about Gabriel's voice that drove Sam to the edge of madness every time, and it was no less intense over the phone.

 

“You know, Sam, there's nothing I would rather do than drag this out for a few hours, but unlucky for us, this isn't the time. So you are gonna start doing whatever it is you do when you jerk off alone. And you're gonna talk me through it.”

 

“Okay.” This wasn't actually Sam's first foray into phone sex, so he didn't hesitate, but he sure hadn't been this excited the last time he'd tried it, so he was glad he wasn't trying to hold the phone with his shaking hands. “I'm rubbing my thighs first. Scratching them a bit. On the front... on the outside... and the inside.” At every sentence he dragged his nails firmly up his thigh muscle, following his own directions thoroughly. He wasn't going to lie to Gabriel. Not like he had with Ruby.

 

“That's good. What then?” Gabriel's voice was low, and there was still complete silence on his end, which gave Sam a sudden and intense urge to make Gabriel lose it. The realization that he had before and could probably do it again made Sam moan without meaning to, before doing it again quite deliberately. His breath hitched when there was a slight rustle on the other end. Sam had never felt more powerful.

 

“Then usually I rub my nipples with one hand, but this time... this time I'm rubbing your mark instead.” And he was. His nipple was already hard as a pebble, and it ached when Sam rubbed his hand over the burst blood vessels so close but not actually touching it.

 

“And your other hand?”

 

“Scratching. Across my abdomen and into my pubic hair.”

 

Gabriel exhaled harshly and there was a little more rustling. “You wanna touch your cock?”

 

“Yeah. But if I touch it now it won't be as good. Gotta wait.”

 

“I knew you and me were on the same page, Sammy,” Gabriel said gleefully. “What's next, then?”

 

“Depends on my mood. Right now I wanna spread my legs and rub my hole. Can I?” It was a calculated tease, and Sam felt a rush of power as Gabriel panted down the phone.

 

“All right,” he said loftily, as if only allowing it out of the goodness of his heart. “You remembering me, Sam? Remembering how I fucked you?”

 

Sam nodded vigorously before remembering that he was on the phone. “Yes. Fucked me so good,” he whimpered, his hand sliding down to do as he'd said.

 

“You're not still sore there, are you?”

 

“No. Wasn't even sore to begin with,” Sam gasped as his fingers dragged across his furled opening.

 

It wasn't a lie. Gabriel had spent an absolutely cruel amount of time prepping him before getting to the main event, so there hadn't even been a hint of pain, which Sam was actually a little unhappy with. Next time he'd have to explain that he liked it just a little rougher. But then again, there was a golden opportunity right this moment.

 

“Next time you fuck me... I want it to hurt,” he hissed, rubbing the bite harder, probably making the bruising worse. “I want you to just spread me open and _take_ me.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gabriel hissed, and there was a clatter which made Sam wonder if he'd had to put the phone down as well. “I'm hearing all these demands, pet. Ever heard of asking nicely?”

 

“Please, Gabriel,” Sam whined immediately. “Please fuck me. Fuck me so hard I'll scream. Fuck me until I can feel you for a week!”

 

“Maybe I will. If you keep begging so pretty.” Gabriel's voice was strained, and Sam reveled in it, feeling endlessly sexy. As if he could make Gabriel do anything if he just asked right. Lower lip trembling and eyes pleading. God, how he wished Gabriel was there so he could try it.

 

He got the distant thought that their dynamics had switched slightly, because usually Sam felt overwhelmed by Gabriel's powerful presence, but maybe the phone muted it somehow. In any case, Sam was getting close really fucking fast, and since Gabriel had said to do what he usually did, he decided to move things along.

 

“Stroking my cock, now,” he moaned. “Slow at first. There's so much pre-come, my hand is soaked.”

 

“Put the phone further down the bed. Wanna hear it.”

 

Sam obliged and then sped up his stroking, deliberately making the wet, filthy noises louder for Gabriel to hear.

 

“Perfect, my sweet. That's perfect. Tell me more.”

 

“Gotta stretch my legs now. Easier to come like that,” he said shakily, finally abandoning the now throbbing bite mark in favor of moving his other hand downwards as well. “Pulling at my sack, now. Just enough to hurt a little.”

 

“You like when it hurts, don't you gorgeous? No matter who's making it hurt, huh?”

 

“I like it best when you hurt me, though,” Sam admitted, gasping for breath. “You make it hurt so good. Always so good,” he moaned.

 

And he wasn't lying. The few times Ruby had deigned to indulge Sam's desires, she'd always been reluctant and mean about it, so it had never been quite right. But Gabriel just seemed to know exactly how much was too much, and had so far only crossed that line to prove a point. The fact that Gabriel obviously liked giving Sam exactly what he wanted was heady beyond belief.

 

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” Gabriel swore with a slight hiss, as if speaking through clenched teeth. And there was definitely some movement going on at his end, so there was no doubt they were both getting there now. Sam moaned louder, making sure Gabriel would hear just how much he was enjoying himself, and his cock was pulsing out more and more pre-come, dripping down over his hand, sliding into his pubic hair and down to his balls, making everything slippery and even more noisy.

 

“Gonna come,” Sam whimpered. “Can I? Oh please, can I?”

 

“Yeah. Lemme hear it, pet. Make it loud.”

 

That was an order Sam had no trouble following, and his hand flew across his slick flesh with an array of obscenely moist sounds as he reached the edge, and he keened brokenly as he came in thick spurts onto his own stomach. “G-god!” he stuttered. “Still coming. There's so much, oh, fuck.” He let out a heartfelt groan as he squeezed out the last few drops, and through the phone he heard a choked grunt as Gabriel found release as well.

 

“Holy shit, kiddo,” Gabriel said, sort of distant as if he was turned away from the phone. But a moment later there was a clatter as the phone was picked up again, and Sam could hear Gabriel breathing like he'd just run a mile. “I sure hope my secretary didn't hear that. That could make our working relationship awkward.”

 

“You sure you won't get into trouble for this?”

 

“Unless I decide to fire myself for indecent exposure, I doubt it,” Gabriel huffed. “The only one who can technically fire me won't do it as long as I keep bringing in the dough. I don't think he'd care if I came to work in full fetish leather and latex get-up if I just put on a suit for board meetings and kept the spice flowing.”

 

“Dune? Nice. Maybe next time we should watch a movie before playtime,” Sam said, only belatedly realizing that he might be offering something Gabriel wasn't interested in. So far they hadn't talked about anything beyond a common interest in getting off. Spending time together unrelated to sex felt somehow more serious. But Gabriel treated it like the casual suggestion it had initially been.

 

“Sure thing. You bring snacks and I'll provide the drinks and Arrakis on wide-screen. How's that sound?”

 

“Awesome. Sweet or spicy snacks?”

 

“Both. Mini-series or movie?”

 

“Oooh, both! Wow, the mini-series! Haven't seen that one in ages!” Sam grinned, only then realizing that he was having a complete fanboy moment while he was still naked and covered in spunk. That was kind of a new one.

 

“I think we got ourselves a deal, shaggy. How about Wednesday?”

 

Sam gnawed his lip and thought it over. Thursday was another day he didn't have to be in until noon, so even if got late it wouldn't be too bad. “If we start in the afternoon, sure, I think we can make it work.”

 

“Fantastic,” Gabriel said happily, and Sam could easily picture the smile on his face. “I'm off at three. So three thirty-ish, my place?”

 

“It's a date,” Sam blurted and then silently cursed himself. First he went out of their routine and now he was using words that implied romantic intentions. He half expected Gabriel to scoff and hang up on him, but the only response was a quiet chuckle.

 

“Sure thing, kiddo. See ya Wednesday.”

 

“Yeah. See you.”

 

Sam hung up the phone feeling both relaxed and tense. Relaxed because he really had needed the time with Gabriel, and the orgasm hadn't hurt either. Tense because now he was starting to worry he was pushing for something more, even though he wasn't entirely sure what that might be. A glance at the clock revealed that he'd have to start moving soon if he was going to have a shower before leaving, and he really needed one now.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam would never be able to watch Dune again without getting an inappropriate boner. He really should have known that with Gabriel it would never _just_ be a movie night.

 

As soon as Sam stepped through the door Wednesday afternoon, Gabriel took his bag of snacks from him and immediately slapped something else into his palm. Sam stared when he saw what it was.

 

“Seriously?” he croaked, not proud of how his voice failed him after barely five seconds in the same room with Gabriel.

 

“You can always say no,” Gabriel said lightly, and while Sam wasn't doubting that he could, there was also a note of challenge in Gabriel's voice. Sam never could resist a challenge.

 

“Now?” he asked instead, his hands shaking minutely as he took off his coat.

 

“Yes please,” came Gabriel's voice from the kitchen. “Oooh, gummi worms! Nice.”

 

Gabriel's voice was completely level, as if he had just handed Sam an apple rather than a butt plug. It was a tiny thing, though, and for a moment Sam felt almost insulted that Gabriel assumed he couldn't take more than that.

 

“You do know that I'll hardly even feel this, right?” he asked while unbuttoning his shirt, still standing in the shadowy hallway. He heard Gabriel pause in the kitchen briefly, and felt almost lightheaded from daring to talk back, even though he wasn't even sure the game was on yet.

 

“Oh, don't worry, pet. I'll make sure you feel it,” Gabriel said, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and hips cocked to the side, a lecherous look on his face. “Besides, if I give you anything bigger than that, it won't hurt when I fuck you later.”

 

Sam's mouth felt dry as a desert all of a sudden, and he nodded dazedly when Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at him in question. The hand holding the plug got suddenly sweaty, as if the thing got hotter when he thought about it, and he started making his way to the bedroom. Before he could pass the kitchen, Gabriel's palm smacked against his chest. “Oh no, pet. In there.” He pointed to the living room. “We've got a movie to watch, remember?”

 

For a second Sam wanted to argue, but he snapped his mouth shut at the look in Gabriel's eyes. “Right,” he croaked instead, and obediently went the other way while Gabriel was apparently arranging their snacks and drinks in the kitchen. Sam was half sure he wouldn't have the presence of mind to actually consume any of it if Gabriel was dialing up the fun already.

 

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room with his shirt half unbuttoned when Gabriel breezed in with beer and snacks. He put everything on the coffee table and picked up the remote before he realized that Sam was a little lost. Not that Sam would have put it that way had someone asked him, but there was no denying that he could really use a little direction. Gabriel obviously wanted something specific, and as usual Sam desperately wanted to please him.

 

Gabriel put the remote down again and sent Sam a warm smile. But even though he looked perfectly kind and reassuring, there was no doubt he was still in character. It thrilled Sam that he could tell the difference then, and he found himself hoping for more nuanced play in the future. Not that he had any idea what kind of play he might be interested in yet. He just wanted more, on pretty much every level.

 

“Here,” Gabriel said, and pulled a cushion off the couch, dumping it on the floor next to his armchair. “You get yourself out of those clothes, get on your knees here, and I'm sure you know what to do with the toy.”

 

Sam nodded, reassured, and started again on his buttons.

 

“You need lube?” Gabriel asked casually, going through his DVD shelf. There was no judging, just a question, but Sam suddenly felt like it would be a failure of him to accept any.

 

“I'll manage.”

 

He could have sworn he saw a nod of approval, but then Gabriel found the movie and Sam hurriedly got the rest of his clothes off. He was nervous, but considering they were yet again doing something Sam had never tried, he supposed it wasn't surprising. He got on his knees on the cushion, the plug clenched tightly in his fist. Gabriel was busy doing something with the remote, but even though he wasn't looking at all, Sam felt uncomfortably exposed. At this point he'd usually be getting hard from the anticipation alone, but his cock remained unimpressed, although there was a definite hum of interest low in his gut. He was just too tightly wound. It wasn't until Gabriel cast him a questioning glance that Sam realized what had been missing.

 

“Would you... watch me? Please?”

 

Gabriel's entire face changed in the blink of an eye. His concentration and careful disregard of what Sam was doing were immediately replaced with the now-familiar face of confidence and warm attention, and Sam might be imagining it, but that face always looked vaguely awe-struck to him, as if everything Sam did was amazing. He felt himself shudder in a mix of relief and excitement. This was how it should be.

 

“Of course, gorgeous. Better make sure we get it right, hm?” Gabriel murmured and sat down in the armchair, his eyes fixed steadily on Sam.

 

Doing this with Gabriel watching felt simultaneously safer and more filthy, and Sam took a couple of deep breaths before gathering some saliva in his palm and reaching down to spread it across his hole. Gabriel nodded his approval openly this time and Sam's cock twitched against his leg as he brought the toy to his lips, his eyes never leaving Gabriel's. The plug was purple silicone with a ring on the end instead of a flared base, and it was small enough that Sam could hide it completely inside his fist. It was slimmer than his thumb in the thickest place, and while he'd been exaggerating slightly about not feeling it at all, it wouldn't be a challenge of any kind either.

 

But if Gabriel kept his promise – and so far he always had – then this was only the beginning. Sam sucked in the toy, not really making a show of it, just getting it as wet as possible while his other hand was busy below, circling and softening, only one fingertip nudging inside. When he felt ready he brought the plug down and slowly eased it in, eyes still locked with Gabriel's. This was always so heady for Sam, because while Gabriel never made it a secret how much he enjoyed looking at Sam's body, it was as if most of the time he preferred looking Sam in the eye, which made it really hard for Sam to draw the line between _just sex_ and _something more_. But Sam wasn't thinking about that now, not while he was bearing down and letting out a long, slow breath as the plug settled inside him, leaving behind a slight burn of dry friction. The look of heated pride he was granted as he settled back down on his shins and put his hands on his thighs made Sam almost feel like crying. At some point he should probably consider if perhaps there was something in his past that needed addressing if he kept reacting like this to approval.

 

“That's my good pet,” Gabriel purred. “Such a good boy.”

 

Sam shuddered again and his cock was now in the game, bobbing slightly with every heartbeat, heavy with blood. Gabriel gave him another warm nod, then turned his eyes to the TV and started the movie as casually as if they had just been sitting next to each other on the couch.

 

It was several minutes into the movie before Sam's breath calmed and he could actually watch what was happening on the screen. Gabriel spent the time getting comfortable, arranging things so that everything was in easy reach, and Sam almost jumped when there was suddenly a beer under his nose. He cast Gabriel a glance, unsure, but the can just nudged against his face until he managed to lift one hand from his thigh and take it. He took a small sip and as soon as he tried to put it down, Gabriel held out his hand for it. Ground rules established. Sam would drink when Gabriel decided.

 

There was a moment of confusion when it came to the snacks. Gabriel casually held a gummi worm in front of him, but when Sam tried to take it by hand, Gabriel frowned at him.

 

“Don't even think about it. I know where those hands of yours have just been.”

 

Sam had to concede that it was a valid point and carefully took the snack from Gabriel's fingers with his lips instead.

 

The first half of the movie went by with casual offerings of refreshments from Gabriel's hands, and after a while the tension bled out of Sam, taking his erection with it. But it was strangely comfortable in a naughty sort of way just sitting there, on display, and feeling the plug inside him every time he shifted his knees. Sometime along the way, Gabriel reached out and started petting Sam's hair gently, as if he really was a lap dog, and Sam loved it. He sighed and pressed into the touch and eventually he ended up leaning against the side of the chair, his head tilted over the armrest for easy reach. His eyes fell closed and the movie became background noise. He almost didn't respond when Gabriel pushed gently on the back of his head, nudging him forwards.

 

“Hands on the floor, sweetheart,” he whispered, only barely audible over the movie. “Rest your head on them a bit.”

 

Sam frowned, confused, but let himself be guided down until he was bent over completely, ass in the air, his head cushioned by his hands against the carpet.

 

“Good boy. That's my good boy,” Gabriel crooned, and Sam felt lust race up his spine again, even as he relaxed completely. He should have felt ridiculous or exposed or _something_ , but all he really felt then was an overwhelming amount of trust and security, and he hummed happily when Gabriel started stroking his back lightly.

 

More time went by, and if Sam hadn't been folded in on himself like he was he might have fallen into a doze there, the carpet soft under his hands and Gabriel's palm gentle and soothing across his spine. The stroking was slow and careful, as far up his back as Gabriel could reach without stretching, then down again, every stroke stopping above Sam's tail-bone but slowly edging closer. By the time Gabriel's hand finally slipped down to caress Sam's buttocks, Sam was fully hard again, breathing heavily and struggling not to squirm.

 

“My beautiful pet,” Gabriel said softly, scratching his nails lightly over Sam's ass. “So pretty like this.” The volume on the TV had been lowered at some point when Sam hadn't been aware, and he could easily hear every honey-edged word falling from Gabriel's lips. “Mine. All mine,” he whispered, making Sam whimper. Then Gabriel reached down and slipped his forefinger through the ring of the plug, just settling there, not moving. Sam panted, clenching around the plug, causing it to move, and Gabriel huffed out a breath of amusement.

 

“Patience, gorgeous. Patience.”

 

He wriggled his finger, jostling the toy slightly, but then stopped moving again. Sam was going a little crazy from all the promise in that tiny tease. Gabriel waited until Sam's breathing had slowed down again before giving the toy a pull, just a little, testing how secure it was. It wasn't painful, but it was dry and uncomfortable, and Sam shivered.

 

“Easy now, pet,” Gabriel murmured, giving the plug another tiny pull while rubbing the rim around it soothingly with his thumb and middle finger. He started a slow rhythm of gentle stroking and pulling, never really allowing the plug to come out, just letting it drag against the edge of Sam's hole until the rim was taut and then releasing it so it would slip back in on its own. It took a long time for Sam to realize that Gabriel's eyes were fixed on what his hand was doing, and Sam moaned brokenly at the thought of what he might look like. His ass was on perfect display, the late afternoon light spilling in through the tall windows, making sure that Gabriel wouldn't miss a single detail.

 

The plug wasn't nearly long enough to touch Sam's prostate, so the stimulation he got was shallow and much too dry, but the whole idea of what he was doing, coupled with the sudden realization that the curtains weren't shut and someone in the nearby buildings could quite possibly see everything made Sam choke on air and clench his fists under his cheek. Pre-come was dripping onto his thigh, and he whimpered from every tiny pull from Gabriel's finger.

 

“You like this, pet?” Gabriel asked softly. “Me showing you off? Letting my nosy neighbors get a good look at you?”

 

“Uh huh,” Sam whined, the reality of the situation crashing in on him with a surge of heat. It could just be part of the game, but for all Sam knew Gabriel really could have neighbors with binoculars or just good eyesight in the next buildings. Exhibitionism hadn't been something he'd ever really explored outside of the general openness of the drunken escapades of the fetish club, but holy hell, if this was how he reacted to it, then he was definitely looking into it.

 

“One day I'm gonna take you out, gorgeous. Parade you around town. Show everyone what a good pet you are. Dirty and sexy and hungry for it. Hungry for my cock,” Gabriel continued, still only giving the plug the smallest pulls and rubbing Sam's hole with gentle but dry fingers, leaving the skin reddened and hot.

  
“Please...” Sam trailed off, unsure of how much he could get away with, but then decided that he was willing to risk punishment for this, because he felt like he was bursting with the need to let out all the things running through his head. “I want that. Want you to mark me up and take me outside. Show that I'm yours. Please, Gabriel, I want you to do it. Anywhere you want, I'll go down on my knees, don't care who might see. Just... bend me over and fuck me,” he babbled. “Please, Gabriel, please, fuck me, please...”

 

Gabriel made a strangled noise, and there was a sudden, harsh pull on the plug, making it come almost all the way out with a pinching drag before being slowly pushed in again. Sam moaned into his hands and pushed back against the pain. He couldn't tell if it was punishment for mouthing off or if Gabriel simply lost control for a moment, but Sam was instantly hungry for more, the stabs of hurt stuttering up his spine and making his thighs tremble.

 

“More,” he whimpered. “Please, Gabriel, more. _Hurt me_...” he trailed off in a whisper, and everything stopped for a long, excruciating moment. Sam was half sure he'd ruined everything, but then there was an explosive burst of movement as Gabriel clambered gracelessly over the side of chair, his hand landing heavily on Sam's lower back, digging in his fingers for balance as he regained his footing. The lancing burn made Sam cry out when Gabriel yanked out the plug with little care for Sam's comfort and let it fall to the floor, immediately forgotten. Sam couldn't see Gabriel, but he could hear movement, and he felt on the verge of tears with relief and anticipation when he heard the clink of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper lowered.

 

“Fuck,” Gabriel hissed, apparently giving up on his clothes in favor of leaning in to bite Sam on his right butt cheek, hard enough that Sam wondered if it broke the skin. He choked out a sob at the pain, and pushed back into it, hungry for more. He was punished by a sharp slap right on top of the bite mark and stuttered out a pained moan while Gabriel pulled back, followed by a rustling sound. There was a splash of warm liquid at the top of Sam's ass, oozing down his crack, and for a confused second Sam wondered if he'd lost track of things and Gabriel was coming on him. But more kept dribbling and then there was a slight crinkle that finally made the pieces come together. Gabriel had kept a small one-use packet of lube in his pocket the whole time. Warm from his body heat and squeezed out with jerky movements it was messy and perfect, and Sam arched back against Gabriel's hand as it smeared the stuff everywhere, which earned him another slap, this time wet and probably spraying droplets of slick from the force.

 

“Stay!” Gabriel snarled and Sam was about to shake out of his skin from waiting while there was more rustling and crinkling behind him. It felt like he was waiting forever, ass in the air, wetness slowly cooling on his heat-throbbing hole, and every exhale came with a slight whimper, because staying still was agony.

 

“Hands behind your back,” came the order finally, and Sam scrambled to obey, only just getting his face back to the floor in time for Gabriel's dry hand to clamp down on his left wrist, twisting his arm further up his back and pressing his chest to the carpet. Gabriel's other hand came down on Sam's lower back, less wet now, pushing him down hard. “Lower, gorgeous. Lower,” he said, voice shaky, and Sam spread his legs wider until his knees were on either side of the cushion and Gabriel could kneel between, his cock brushing Sam's thigh.

 

“Perfect, kiddo,” Gabriel breathed, and stopped pushing down in favor of taking hold of his own cock and guiding it to Sam's slick hole. “Gonna fuck you now. Fuck you good. My good boy. Beautiful pet. Make you scream,” he said, as if not even aware of the filth he was spouting.

 

“Yes, do it, please, please, plea– ” Sam's breathing cut off as Gabriel shoved inside in one long push, only slightly eased by the lube and the condom he'd apparently gotten on at some point, while Sam had been busy going out of his mind. Gabriel didn't stop until he bottomed out with a heart-felt groan, stayed there until Sam gasped in a shocked lungful of air, and then everything whited out as Gabriel set a punishing pace right from the start. He took one of Sam's wrists in each hand and forced them up high on his back, twisting both arms, while also pressing down with all his weight as he fucked into Sam with blinding bursts of pain. Gabriel wasn't nearly as well-endowed as Sam, but going in with so little prep and so shallow slicking was a surefire recipe for hurt, which was exactly what Sam wanted. He'd feel it for _days_.

 

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ ,” Gabriel grunted in time with his thrusts, and Sam was right there with him, gasping and groaning through every star-burst of agony from several different places. His knees, chest and cheek were getting carpet burn, and his shoulders screamed as his arms were twisted backwards. But he was flying, the pain just propelling him higher, and he panted open-mouthed and dizzy as he suddenly floated away from the pain into a whole other level of consciousness.

 

He'd thought he'd experienced a high before then with Gabriel, but everything paled in comparison to the sheer blissful calm of the state of mind he was suddenly in. It took him by complete surprise, but even that emotion was distant and unimportant in the greater scope of things, drifting as he was in rolling waves of mindless pleasure. He was only vaguely aware of Gabriel slamming into him and felt weirdly fascinated with how a drop of saliva from his mouth burst across the colorful carpet as the breath was punched from his chest.

 

Gabriel was still gasping and panting behind him, and then there was a warm rush as his hips pressed flush against Sam's ass. While he could tell with a sort of distant pride that Gabriel had just orgasmed, it was all so fuzzy around the edges. Sam was almost amused when Gabriel pulled out, only to thrust his fingers back inside and crook them just right for Sam to lurch over the brink as well, courtesy of a few well-aimed strokes across his prostate, tapering off into gentle nudges until he was spent and empty. He was still watching the light glisten through his spit drops on the floor when Gabriel's voice drifted in from somewhere far away.

 

“Sam? Sammy, sweetheart, come back to me now. Look at me. Come on down. I got ya.”

 

It felt like moving through syrup, but he managed to turn his head and see Gabriel crouching next to him, still dressed, apparently only having stopped long enough to open his pants before going to town. His pants were still open, and the fabric was damp from their mess, but he had at least tucked himself in. A blanket was laid across Sam's back, and he placidly followed the pressure of Gabriel's hands to lay him down on his side on the floor. Gabriel followed, stretching out beside him and gently tucking his arm under Sam's head, letting him nuzzle against the the warm, soft sleeve.

 

“Are you with me, kiddo?”

 

Sam made a noise, not really an answer, because at that point he didn't really know one way or the other. Gabriel just nodded and petted his hair, evidently happy enough to wait until Sam was ready to come down.

 

It felt like a long time before things started filtering through. Sounds at first. The end credits of the movie, the distant noise of traffic and Gabriel's deep breaths next to him. Then there was a prickling sensation in his arms, and he flexed his fingers under the blanket, coaxing the feeling back into them properly. He took in a deep breath and only just had time to appreciate how Gabriel smelled amazing, a mix of sweat, sex and whatever mix of scents just made him smell like _him_ , before pain slammed into Sam.

 

His eyes widened and he gasped as every single ache he'd acquired in the past hour or so made themselves known simultaneously.

 

“Ow,” he croaked, and Gabriel chuckled.

  
“Welcome back. How was outer space?”

 

Sam sighed and squirmed closer, ignoring the screaming of his body broadcasting all the hurting. “It was awesome,” he said, muffled against Gabriel's chest, even as it shook with subdued laughter.

 

“I'll bet. You took the extended tour of the solar system for a while there.”

 

“Mm hmm,” Sam snuffled against Gabriel's warm shirt, the beat of his heart steadying Sam's own.

 

Gabriel chuckled again and held Sam tighter. “I don't know if you've noticed, but we're on the floor.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Anytime you wanna change that, just lemme know.”

 

“Mmm. Later,” Sam mumbled. Everything hurt, but the endorphin rush was apparently still kicking, because Sam just felt like he was in a bubble, warm, calm and safe. He was in no hurry to leave.

 

Gabriel just nodded and held him close as twilight descended outside the windows.

 

They did manage to relocate to the couch eventually. Gabriel helped Sam up and pretty much tucked him in, fussing over him in a mothering sort of way that was amusing and touching in equal measure. Gabriel's offer of a hot shower was declined, but the ice packs and aloe crème were very welcome. There was a brief moment where Gabriel looked sheepish and on the brink of apologizing over the redness on Sam's face, but Sam just smiled at him and sighed as gentle hands cleaned and soothed all the aches. After that it was just quiet and comfortable. Gabriel got them fresh, cold beers, the filthy couch cushion was cleaned and replaced, and as the mini-series was put on, Sam let his head rest on Gabriel's lap, a long breath flowing out of him.

 

He dozed off to Gabriel's voice chatting aimlessly about the movie versus the series versus the books, and when he was finally roused enough to go home around midnight, he began to doubt if he ever really came down off the high, because he could have sworn he was floating all the way home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, yes, I am in fact buttering you up with porn before the long dialogue heavy chapter to come.
> 
> Other than that, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR AMAZING COMMENTS AND KUDOS OMG! You make my muses purr like little sex kittens in a satisfied orgasmic stupor after every chapter I post. I love you all!
> 
>  
> 
> [EDIT: Here's a little visual of the plug Gabriel used on Sam.](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31Pnt%2Bj6MXL._SY355_.jpg)
> 
> EDIT: HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS, THERE IS NOW FANART FOR THIS CHAPTER TOO! [GO CHECK IT OUT, IT'S SO GORGEOUS OMG!](http://lookinforsomeabsinth.tumblr.com/post/67492428402/a-little-get-well-soon-gift-for-lady-drace)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, chapters are getting longer and longer. And be warned, the feels are getting heavier. 
> 
> Also, HUGE thanks to all my beautiful darlings who listen to me rant and whine when my muses are being little bitches and making life difficult. I'm talking about
> 
> [Jo](luciflirtatious.tumblr.com), [Steph](stephstiel.tumblr.com), [Kat](disturbedkatten.tumblr.com), [Sala](salatrash.tumblr.com), [Isa](isaisanisa.tumblr.com) and my ever diligent beta [sesquipedaliantea](http://sesquipedaliantea.tumblr.com). Go worship them all. Go on!
> 
> Also, the first one to get the joke there at the end gets to make a request for future sex scenes and I will do my very best to accommodate you!

All through Thursday Gabriel sent Sam a steady stream of texts for no apparent reason. He didn't invite Sam over, he didn't ask about anything in particular, and didn't seem to want anything other than to be generally friendly. He complained hilariously about his job, geeked out some more about Dune, claiming that Sam missed all the good stuff while he was asleep the day before, and told small anecdotes about his dog. Sam's morning flew by in a daze. It was like he never really came back down to Earth, and he smiled like a complete goof every time his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

It was late afternoon by the time he realized that Gabriel wasn't just being friendly for fun, but that he was most likely checking in to make sure Sam didn't drop after the high. Sam couldn't blame Gabriel for not anticipating his first one, since he never actually entered that detached state of mind then, and while Sam was no expert he could easily imagine that drops tended to happen mostly after the sessions that got you out of your head. But Gabriel clearly blamed himself for not considering the possibility that it could happen, and this time he was taking no chances, texting at least every hour and always subtly demanding an answer, presumably so he could gauge Sam's mental state without outright asking.

 

It pissed Sam off. He glowered at the phone and refused to answer any more texts, but that only made Gabriel more pushy, and Sam decided eventually that replying would give him more peace than if he didn't. He wasn't even sure why he got so angry over it, but there was no denying that the idea that Gabriel's sweet and funny reaching out to him was strictly utilitarian made Sam's shoulders tense and his teeth grind.

 

But he wasn't angry enough to refuse when Gabriel eventually did ask if he could come over Friday night, so whatever was going on, Sam was willing to put it aside for the chance of another trip to the stratosphere. Besides, Gabriel never did get around to refreshing his marks, and Sam was determined to make that happen sooner rather than later. Obviously he had a brand new kink, and he was totally ready to indulge it at every opportunity.

 

“Dude, what's up with your face?” Dean asked out of the blue Sunday morning, glaring at Sam over his cereal.

 

Sam frowned. “What do you mean _what's up with my face_ , it's just my face.” Sam had made absolutely sure that the carpet rash had faded from Wednesday's playtime before letting Dean see him, and despite another long, glorious night of marking, there was currently nothing on his face that Dean could possibly have noticed.

 

Dean squinted at him and shook his head. “Yeah, and your face is doing that thing.”

  
“What _thing_?”

 

“That... happy-glowy-thing,” Dean concluded in a grim voice.

 

“My face is not doing anything. No... happy-glowy things,” Sam huffed, sniffing the milk, a precaution Dean had not taken before consuming it.

 

“No, your face is definitely doing the happy-glowy-thing,” Dean insisted, sounding oddly angry all of a sudden.

 

“What is your problem? My face isn't doing anything! And even if it was, wouldn't happy-glowy be a good thing?”

 

Dean scowled and jabbed the air with his spoon for emphasis. “No. Happy-glowy is _bad_. Like Ruby-bad.”

 

Sam froze. “Dean, what the hell?”

 

Bringing up Ruby was always an immediate recipe for tension between them, so Dean usually saved it for when he needed an ace in the hole to win an argument. But Sam honestly couldn't think of anything that would warrant that kind of attack at seven AM, his face notwithstanding.

 

“Don't take it personally, Sam–”

 

“ _Don't take it personally_?! Dean, you just told me, in the weirdest possible way, that I look happy, and now you're telling me that's bad? Seriously, what the hell?!”

 

“This Gabriel guy is getting to you, isn't he,” Dean spat. “He's worming his way in, just like her!”

 

Sam reeled. Following his long, and frankly brain breaking, conversation with Dean about Gabriel and BDSM, Sam had stupidly assumed that the subject was closed. Dean had sure made enough puke-faces along the way, but had grudgingly admitted by the end that he might have been overreacting over a couple of hickies, and _no, he didn't want any more details about Sam's freaky sex life, thank you_.

 

“Where the fuck did that come from?!”

 

“From your face, Sam! You told me it was just sex, but I know that goofy goddamn face of yours! You're into him!”

 

“Of course I'm into him, Dean, that's the whole point of sex!”

 

“I mean emotionally, airhead!”

 

“Oh, so now you're an expert on emotions!?” Sam snarked.

 

“No, I'm an expert on _you_ , Sam! And whenever you get that face, it means you're about to make shitty life choices!”

 

Sam had to blink at the sheer level of offensiveness in that statement, and resorted to letting out a disbelieving snort rather than attempt a counterargument, because he already knew that Dean considered himself responsible for Sam in a major way, but going so far as assuming he was about to ruin his life just because he was smiling was taking it too far. He'd woken up to a text from Gabriel containing a rude joke. Smiling over that was not some kind of sign of immediate doom.

 

“Don't you scoff at me!” Dean yelled, throwing his cereal in the sink hard enough for the bowl to crack. “I've seen you do this so many times, Sam! Fall ass over elbows for someone, and before I know it you're out at all hours of the night, doing who the fuck knows what, and almost getting yourself killed!”

 

“What I do at night is _really_ none of your business! I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself!”

 

“Oh, you mean like you did when Ruby doped you up and almost made you walk into a fire?!”

 

Sam felt anger crackle up his spine, tinting his vision red. “That was _one_ mistake, Dean! Are you going to judge my whole life from that one thing?!”

 

“I will judge you any way I damn well feel like it when your life is on the line!”

 

“Just because you swooped in like some goddamn superhero last time doesn't mean you get to be judge and jury over everything I ever do!” Sam yelled, so angry he barely even knew what they were arguing about anymore.

 

“I wouldn't have to if you just made the right choice every once in a blue moon!”

 

“And who gets to decide what the right choice is, huh? _You_?!”

 

“As long as you keep giving your heart away to shit-heads like Gabriel, then yeah, I'll decide!”

 

“You don't even know him!”

 

“I don't have to! Because you always fall for the wrong people, Sam! As long as they're freaky enough in bed, you let them right into your life!”

 

Livid, Sam got right up in Dean's face, the urge to punch him almost overwhelming. “If you'd bothered to ask before jumping to conclusions, I could have told you that Gabriel hasn't asked me a single fucking thing about my personal life,” Sam snarled. “Not one! Not even when I wanted him to! He's keeping me at arm's length, Dean, and no matter how much I wish it was different, _it's just sex!_ ”

 

Dean's eyes widened, a hand's breadth away, and Sam suddenly realized what he'd said. What he and Gabriel had really _was_ just sex. But fuck it all, Sam wanted it to be more. All the little stabs of jealousy over Gabriel's long list of previous partners and the disappointment of Gabriel dismissing the mere idea that there could be feelings involved suddenly made a dizzying amount of sense. Sam had fallen fast and hard, probably from the very first moment. And he hadn't even realized.

 

“I rest my case,” Dean said meanly, and if Sam had been angry before, it was nothing to the surge of rage welling up in him then. With a roar of fury he punched the wall next to Dean's head, hard enough that the plaster crumbled and rained to the floor. The shock on Dean's face was extremely gratifying, but really only made Sam want to punch him more.

 

“I can't be in the same room with you right now,” Sam hissed, pulling away with effort. “I'm going out. And so help me, if you ask where I'm going it won't be the wall I'm punching next.”

 

Luckily for them both Dean stayed quiet, and Sam grabbed his coat with throbbing knuckles and slammed the door behind him so hard that he wasn't even remotely surprised when people yelled at him all the way down the stairwell for making such a racket at dawn on a Sunday.

 

He only realized that he was heading for Gabriel's apartment when he was half-way there, and he forced himself to stop and think for a moment. Showing up unannounced at sunrise was probably not a good idea, no matter how much Sam wanted to. He was still achy in a pleasant way from their playtime the day before, and he was seriously tempted to beg for a few more things to ache from, even if he wasn't quite ready to make any grand declarations of love or whatever. The thought of putting himself in Gabriel's hands again was just comforting, even with Gabriel keeping the emotional distance between them. But just because Sam was more than ready to just throw himself back into Gabriel's arms was no guarantee that Gabriel was on board with that plan.

 

Considering the texts, Sam felt it was safe to assume that Gabriel was up, and called him with hands still shaking from anger.

 

“Mornin' hot stuff! Are you calling to yell at me for sending you dick jokes at the crack of dawn?”

 

“No, the dick jokes were fine. It's the dick I'm living with that's giving me problems.”

 

Gabriel tutted in sympathy as he rustled about on the other end of the line. “Is he shitting bricks about the hickies again?”

 

“No, it's... not that, exactly,” Sam said hesitantly. “I'd actually prefer to tell you to your face. Can I come over?”

 

“Gah, sorry kiddo, no can do,” Gabriel said, sounding genuinely sorry. “I have to be on a flight in like two hours and thanks to a certain someone screaming my name in ecstasy most of the weekend I never got around to packing.”

 

Sam flushed, remembering. “Sorry? I guess?”

 

“Damn right you should be sorry,” Gabriel huffed. “I had perfectly good sex before you came along and made it all look like second rate shit.”

 

Gabriel's voice was light, clearly intended to sound like he was joking around, but Sam couldn't help but wonder if he was being serious. Unfortunately there was no way to know if it was Sam's own feelings reading too much into it, or if Gabriel really did rate him so highly, and Sam fell silent, lost as to how to continue.

 

After a long minute of quiet, Gabriel spoke again, his voice soft with concern. “Hey, you okay?”

 

“Honestly? No. But that's just what living with my brother gets me, I guess.”

 

There was a frustrated huff into the phone. “Shit, I wish I didn't have to go do this thing, but there's no way around it.”

 

“It's fine, I'll deal with it.”

 

“I'm sure you will, but... Sam, for my peace of mind, would you promise me to talk to somebody?”

 

Sam snorted. “Well yeah, I would, but it's not like I go around advertising my kinks. You and Dean are pretty much the only people in my life who know this side of me.”

 

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Gabriel sighed, and was quiet for a few long moments. “How would you feel talking to a friend of mine? You don't have to pour your heart out or anything, but she'll at least understand the risk of a drop.”

 

Sam gnawed his lip, thinking about it. He wasn't exactly eager to share his personal woes with a stranger, but he was sort of at a loss. He didn't want to go home and face Dean, and he didn't really have other friends in town. He was friendly with a couple of co-workers, but he wasn't quite ready to open up the whole can of worms that was Dean, Ruby and Gabriel around them. Not to mention the whole kink thing. In the end he didn't really see any other options except maybe getting drunk, but getting wasted on a Sunday morning was just a little too desperate for Sam's taste.

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

An hour later he was standing outside the fetish club, of all places. Elysian Fields was open every night, and hosted private arrangements during the daytime. Sam had only ever been there on weekends, following a strict pattern of showing up, getting drunk to some extent and then accepting whatever offers came his way that didn't sound downright scary. As kinky as he'd thought he was, if nothing else, the club had been a severe eye-opener from the first moment he'd set foot inside.

 

The place looked strange during the day. The neon sign was off, the doorman was noticeably absent, and Sam felt awkward standing there on the empty street outside the place where he'd gotten his freak on in lots of different ways over the past year or so.

 

Following Gabriel's directions he went to the back entrance this time and knocked cautiously. Barely a second later the door swung open to reveal a huge, muscular man wearing leather from head to toe, which would have been kind of intimidating if he hadn't also been aiming a friendly smile at Sam.

 

“Can I help you, sir?”

 

It took Sam a moment to process the polite greeting from someone who looked more like they were about to administer severe pain than offer directions.

 

“Uhm... I'm here to see Kali? Gabriel sent me?”

 

“Sure thing, come on in!”

 

Sam followed the beefy guy through the narrow hall with the private rooms on either side, then through a door, which brought them into the main room where Sam had spent many nights drinking and occasionally having semi-public sex when he'd been too drunk to care who would see. The room was empty and seemed too bright with actual lights on, rather than the reddish glow of the wall-mounted lamps and shaded chandeliers.

 

When they reached the bar, the guy asked Sam to take a seat and even offered him a beer, which Sam accepted gratefully.

 

“Kali will be here in a minute,” the guy said lightly. “But if you need anything at all, you ask for the Chief, okay?”

 

Had it been any other time, Sam might have taken that as a lewd offer, but it was daylight, no one was drunk and the Chief seemed genuinely nice.

 

“Sure, thanks.”

 

The Chief disappeared through a side door and Sam was left alone at the bar to sip at his beer. He had the brief thought that it seemed awfully trusting to just let Sam have unrestricted access like that, but then he remembered some of the implements he'd seen used around the club and in glimpses through doorways to the private rooms as he'd been passing them on the way to one of his own. Had he felt the least temptation to steal something it would have been thoroughly squashed by the mere thought of what could be done to him in retaliation. The place had a _dungeon_ , after all.

 

“So you're Gabriel's latest squeeze?” Sam turned to the sultry voice and had to consciously restrain himself from doing something ridiculous like falling to his knees or maybe drooling. Because the woman striding in from the back was a _goddess_. There was no other way to describe her. And even if Sam had been the same clueless newbie he'd been when Gabriel had first taken him home he probably still would have felt the intense presence of her filling the whole room. Whatever Gabriel had in charisma, she had it ten times over.

 

Sam had to clear his throat _twice_ to make it come out as more than a croak. “Uh, hi. Yeah, I guess. I'm Sam.” He reached out a hand for a shake but lost his nerve half way there and pulled it back again. The goddess smirked minutely at him, as if he was a moderately amusing circus act.

 

“I'm Kali. And you're different than I imagined.”

 

“Uhm... I am?”

 

Kali looked him over, openly assessing him before sliding gracefully onto a stool next to him. She tossed her hair slowly over her shoulder and made herself comfortable before turning her intense, dark eyes back to him.

 

“From the way Gabriel spoke of you I expected someone younger. And weaker.”

 

Something in the way she said it gave Sam the impression she wasn't talking about physical strength, although Sam was pretty confident in his physical fitness.

 

“Oh. What... did he say about me? Exactly?”

 

Blinking slowly at him, Kali reminded Sam terrifyingly of a panther in repose but ready to strike in a heartbeat.

 

“Merely that you needed guidance. That you might have questions. And that you and he have had some increasingly intense scenes lately.”

 

Sam felt heat flood to his cheeks. “Well yeah, that last part is true, anyway. And... I do have some questions.”

 

“But not about BDSM, I gather,” she said knowingly. “Good thing too. Gabriel and I don't share the same opinions on this particular subject, and we're both passionate about it. While the merits of RACK versus SSC might be interesting to some, that's not why you're here, is it?”

 

Half of what she'd said made no sense to Sam, but Kali was right. He didn't come for a lecture.

 

“Well, no. Gabriel sent me because he's worried I might be heading for a sub drop.”

 

“Ah, but is that really why you decided to come?”

 

Surprised at her insight, Sam looked away. He picked at the label on his beer bottle, uncomfortable at being called out and unsure of what to say.

 

“It's perfectly all right,” Kali said. “Gabriel can be... difficult.”

 

“No, it's not that,” Sam rushed. “He's been great, really. Maybe a little too great.”

 

Kali gave him a long look. “Is that why you felt the need to go elsewhere? Try a different flavor?”

 

Sam frowned at her. “Sorry, you lost me.”

 

Slowly, Kali reached over and pulled the collar of his shirt down slightly, revealing one of Gabriel's recent marks purpling on his neck. “Gabriel might be forgiving, but don't expect him to be happy you let someone else mark you.”

 

Confused, Sam shook his head. “Uhm, no I don't think he would be. But he made those himself.”

 

Kali let go of his shirt suddenly. “Gabriel marked you?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Huh.”

 

“What's with the huh?” Sam asked, shrinking away slightly when Kali fixed her smoky eyes on his. He blinked rapidly and swallowed to combat his suddenly dry throat, but didn't look away. Whatever she was looking for, she apparently found it and finally broke their connection, leaving Sam to breathe a silent sigh of relief.

 

For a long moment it was all quiet. Sam was confused but he got the distinct impression that Kali would speak whenever she felt like it. So he waited, sipped his beer and tried not to fidget too much. Eventually she turned her eyes to him again, this time softer and somehow friendlier, even though Sam couldn't honestly say she'd been unfriendly at any point.

 

“You're really not at all what I was led to believe. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Gabriel is a liar, after all.”

 

Sam felt Kali's words like a punch in the gut, but tried desperately not to let it show on his face.

 

“Oh?” he asked quietly, willing his voice not to shake. He couldn't have made such a massive mistake again. _He couldn't have_.

 

“Yes,” Kali nodded, and her gaze was heavy on him, eliminating Sam's small hope that she wouldn't notice his despair. “But don't fret. These days he mostly lies to himself.”

 

“Mostly?”

 

To his surprise, Kali chuckled. “I can see why he likes you. You're a real treasure. So open and expressive. You must be a joy to command.”

 

Sam wasn't even sure he saw it as a compliment that all his emotions were so obvious on his face, but still sent her a weak smile. “Thanks, I guess. Look, I hope you don't think I just came here to pump you for information on Gabriel, but I need you to tell me if he'd ever lie to me.”

 

Kali gave him another searching look and then shrugged. “We all lie, Sam. To ourselves, to our friends, lovers and colleagues. To the world in general. Gabriel's only problem is that he's gotten so good at pretending to be someone else I think he's forgotten who he is when he's not.”

 

“Who does he pretend to be, then?”

 

“Anyone but himself, it would seem,” Kali said with a wry smile. “It's not my place to tell you about Gabriel's past, but suffice to say that he has plenty of reason to believe that who he is will never be good enough. So instead he'll be who he thinks you need him to be, rather than who he really is. Don't get me wrong, he's a good person. But he tends to lose sight of what _he_ needs, too busy being what he thinks other people need him to be. I don't know what exactly he thinks he needs to be for you, but for me... he was the perfect slave.”

 

Sam dropped his jaw. “Gabriel was a sub!?”

 

“Oh yes. He started out that way. He was already fairly experienced when he came to me. By then he was so good at playing his role that I suspect anyone less observant would never have guessed it wasn't exactly where he wanted to be. He wasn't pleased about being called out, but as much as I enjoy the pain of my servants I cannot accept anyone not wanting to be there one hundred percent. I have no doubt Gabriel was happy to serve, but he's much happier commanding.”

 

“But if he's still not himself...” Sam trailed off.

 

“I'm not sure he even knows how to be that anymore. But considering that he's let himself... make an impression on you, I think you've been allowed to see something closer to the real him than most.”

 

Sam's hand crept up to the marks on his neck and Kali nodded. “Gabriel doesn't normally like leaving anything of himself behind. Always on the run, figuratively speaking.”

 

“So... you don't think he's...”

 

“Trying to deliberately deceive you?” Kali offered, as if knowing exactly what Sam wasn't asking. “No. No, I don't think Gabriel is even capable of hurting those he perceives as innocent.”

 

“But... I'm _not_ innocent,” he argued in a small voice. And he wasn't. He'd done truly horrible things in the past, driven by his anger or his twisted affection for Ruby. He wasn't proud of his actions, but he was at least man enough to own up to his mistakes.

 

Kali huffed out a short laugh. “Of course you're not. True innocence is a thing of fairy tales. But Gabriel wants the world to be simple. Good and Evil. Black and white, easily labeled. And he's gotten so good at telling himself it is what he wants it to be I think most of the time the shades of gray simply escape his notice.”

 

Sam almost jumped when he felt her warm hand settle firmly on his shoulder, the touch unfamiliar but grounding as she locked gazes with him again.

 

“Gabriel is frighteningly good at guessing what you want, to the point where it seems like he's reading your mind, but don't let it fool you. He really is just guessing. And unless you tell him in no uncertain terms that you want things differently, he _is_ going to jump to his own conclusions, and then you'll get nowhere.”

 

“He's not the only one freakishly good at guessing,” Sam said daringly, feeling off-balance by how thoroughly she picked him apart. Kali snorted and dug her nails into his shoulder briefly before letting her hand drop.

 

“I'd say it comes with being a Dom, but that would be generous. Far too many people go into this not knowing half as much as they should.”

 

“You and Gabriel seem to agree on that, at least.”

 

“Speaking of which... have you actually looked into this on your own?”

 

“Well... no,” Sam admitted sheepishly. “Because I share a laptop with my brother, and while the chances of him finding anything are small, I really, _really_ don't like the idea of him knowing what I'm looking into.”

 

Silence fell, and Sam finished his beer, getting the distinct feeling that he was about to be called out on something again, so he braced himself for it.

 

“Is that really the reason?” Kali asked quietly. “There are other methods of research after all. You don't strike me as someone afraid to ask.”

 

Sam swallowed hard, shifting in his seat, uncomfortable with the subject. But something about Kali's presence made him want to come clean. As if keeping this to himself was some kind of vague disobedience. He mulled it over and decided that no matter the compulsion, maybe it was time to at least say it out loud, and he felt weirdly safe with Kali, just like he did with Gabriel.

 

“I'm scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I'm scared I might find out that there really is something wrong with me. That liking the things I do makes me so twisted that there's no saving me. That I'm... tainted.”

 

Kali said nothing, and Sam was grateful for it. It wasn't like there was really any reassurance to be had here.

 

“Besides,” he continued shakily. “I kinda like Gabriel's way of teaching. I like the idea of knowing only what he feels I need to. If I knew in advance what he might do, then I think I might lose my nerve. It's kind of a new development for me to not be doing this shitfaced.”

 

Quiet descended again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Sam was feeling off-kilter and vulnerable, but thankfully not about to drop head-first into a black hole of despair like Gabriel had feared. Kali was breathing slowly next to him, leaving him be, and Sam was grateful for it.

 

“How would you feel about a massage?”

 

Sam jerked his head around to look at her so fast his neck made a disturbing sound. “From _you_?” he squeaked, embarrassed, but simultaneously terrified. As much as Kali was oozing sensuality and dark desire all over the place, Sam felt massively uneasy imagining her hands on him in an intimate sense. Maybe because she'd freely admitted to being a sadist, but mostly, he suspected, because he actually did find her extremely attractive and it would feel way too close to cheating. Which was yet another thing he'd need to think through later.

 

Kali chuckled, low and soft, making Sam feel like she was definitely laughing _at_ him and not _with_ him.

 

“No, not from me. I have people to do the grunt work for me. But if you're interested I'll let the Chief know you're getting a freebie. People line up for his massages. Make no mistake, you're being offered a real treat here.”

 

As if summoned by the mention of his name, the Chief sidled in through a side-door and frowned in question when he caught Kali looking at him.

 

“Chief. Do you have an hour to spare for Sam? There's a lot of tension in this boy.”

 

The Chief rubbed his hands together in a way that would have seemed gleeful if he hadn't also been smiling kindly at Sam, obviously aware of his discomfort. “For this little cutie? Definitely.”

 

Sam looked wide-eyed from one to the other, completely floored by the offer, but at the same time actually tempted. As uneasy as he was about the whole thing, both Kali and the Chief had so far seemed to have only his best interests at heart, and it was kind of mindblowing for Sam to be the object of so much open consideration. He cast Kali a glance and she nodded at him reassuringly, and that was apparently all he really needed. He hopped off the stool and threw out his hands.

  
“Sure. Why the hell not,” he said and made his way over. “My safeword is cherub, by the way.”

 

The Chief laughed, holding the door open so he could pass. “At least it's not apples,” he rumbled.

 

“Apples?”

 

* * *

Author's note: for more information on RACK and SSC I've added [a short factual piece](http://archiveofourown.org/works/996205) to the series explaining it briefly.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam kept to himself for the next several days. When he'd returned to the apartment Dean had been mercifully absent, and by a combination of conscious effort and naturally clashing work schedules they managed to not meet for more than a few tense minutes all week. Gabriel came back from wherever he'd been in time to invite Sam over for Friday, but he declined, claiming he was tired. Gabriel texted Sam with increasing concern over the weekend until Sam finally snapped and told him to call Kali if he was so worried about his mental state, which Gabriel apparently did if the indignant text Sam got a few hours later was any indication.

 

[You got a freebie massage from the Chief?! I think I hate you a little bit now.]

 

Sam tried really hard not to smile, and failed miserably, which did not help. Because he was confused and doubting himself in a major way, and it felt like he was drowning in ways it could all go horribly wrong.

 

He was perfectly aware of what he wanted, but Dean's and Kali's words kept echoing through his head and he spent several nights tossing and turning, doubting himself at every breath. He would probably never stop questioning himself and his faith in people after Ruby. He just didn't know what to do.

 

His anxiety and unease kept steadily building, and the following week he woke up from a nightmare, sweating and gasping with residual terror. He had plenty of bad memories to have nightmares from, but of course this one was about Ruby.

 

“ _My beautiful freak,” she purred at him, dragging her nails across his skin. “My monster prince. We'll rule the world together. You and me. We'll show them all. Show Dean and your dad and all the people who held you back what you can do. We'll burn it all. Burn it all to the ground.”_

 

_He shuddered, so uneasy about her words, but who was he to judge anyone for whatever they needed to get off? Ruby obviously needed to spout nigh on insane babble about taking over the world. It was never real. Never something he thought she'd actually want. It was just sex. And he loved her enough to give her anything she wanted._

 

“ _Drink this,” she said. “It'll make you feel better.”_

 

_And he did. He was so upset, knowing that their time together was ending. That he wouldn't be able to keep up his end anymore. She'd been hurting him for so long, and he just wasn't strong enough to bear it any longer. So if she wanted him to drink, he would. Anything to make her smile one last time before he had to break it off. Then everything went fuzzy around the edges, her words suddenly sounded like they made sense, and before he knew what was happening there was fire. Fire and Ruby and the unflinching belief that the flames could never harm him. Nothing could touch him. He and Ruby were invincible and no one would ever hurt them again. All they had to do was walk into the blaze._

 

He woke up with Dean's terrified voice crying his name still echoing through his mind, and Sam had to force down the bile as it welled up in his throat, past horrors feeling so very immediate in the dark. Rubbing his face with his hands he willed the bad memories away, and groaned at the early hour. He should try and get back to sleep, but he knew it was a lost cause. It always was. Deciding on a shower instead to wash off the reek of fear-metallic sweat he shuffled into the bathroom, quietly passing Dean's door, and almost flinched when the lights came on and he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

 

The face in the mirror almost brought back the frozen horror of his nightmare, because it was nothing like the face he'd gotten used to over the past weeks. That face was happier, healthier, calmer. The face staring back at Sam was almost exactly identical to the one that had greeted him every morning while he was still with Ruby. It was the face of a man getting far too little sleep and care, a man who was being slowly destroyed, but was in too deep to think he ever deserved better. Ruby had literally tried to ruin him. Any way she could. When he'd finally realized it he'd tried to pull away, so she'd moved on from emotional destruction to cold-blooded murder. Not that she'd seen it that way, probably. Sam had long ago reconciled himself to the fact that she was insane, and had they had the means to put her away forever the world would have been a better place for it.

 

As it was, he could only hope that she was long gone, never to return, so he could get back to looking like someone whose world wasn't slowly collapsing in on itself. He blinked as the thought sunk in. He'd spent so long slowly healing and working to overcome his issues he hadn't even noticed the changes in himself. The first many months after Ruby had been a blur of various unhealthy coping mechanisms. He couldn't really blame Dean for his concerns, because there had been more than once where Sam had come home so drunk he could hardly walk, blathering to Dean about whoever new from Elysian Fields had shown Sam a good time and how he was totally in love now, and this person was so much better than Ruby, Dean would see. He'd only barely remembered them at all once the hangovers had passed. Sam wasn't proud of those times.

 

But Gabriel... Sam had actually had reservations, despite getting pretty much the best sex of his life from the very first moment. He'd held back, he'd been sober and he'd _thought things through_. Ruby had never even given him the chance to think at all. Gabriel had given him time and space and literally no pressure, and Sam was hard pressed to think of anyone else in his entire life who'd given him anything like that.

 

In short, Dean was wrong. Sam did know better. All he needed to do now was show it.

 

He felt almost giddy with excitement while stripping down and ducking into the shower, but it barely lasted through the routine of washing before another thought occurred to him. As much as Sam was ready to show that he could do relationships right, he couldn't actually be sure that Gabriel even wanted that. Going by Gabriel's own signals, Sam wouldn't have thought there was anything there. But Kali had made it seem like there was at least potential for more. If Sam was up to the challenge.

 

Looking at himself in the mirror, tired, but refreshed, Sam decided that the potential was worth the effort. Come morning he would start over. This time... he'd do it right.

 

* * *

 

Sam was a nervous wreck as he sat down to wait for Gabriel in the café where he'd asked to meet. He'd decided it was best to have this conversation in public, so they wouldn't get distracted by sex. _Again_. He'd been over at Gabriel's place twice since his late night soul searching, and both times when he'd tried to actually talk, Gabriel had somehow just steamrolled right into sex. And Sam was just too goddamn hungry for it, so he just gave up on talking there, because apparently when it came to Gabriel he had no spine whatsoever.

 

So plan B was the café. He'd gotten there early, settled down in a booth and then spent the next ten minutes waiting for Gabriel and slowly demolishing a napkin between his nervous fingers.

 

“Hey kiddo, how's it hangin'?” Gabriel said, sauntering in with a smirk on his face. “To the left, to the right? Curved like a banana, twisted like a pretzel?”

 

Sam laughed at the crude greeting and balled up the sad remains of his tattered napkin. “I would have thought you'd know by now. You've seen it enough.”

 

“You could be trying something new,” Gabriel shrugged as he sat down on the chair opposite Sam. “Variety is the spice of life. And I know you like some spice.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Sam snorted as he picked up a menu. They ordered and exchanged vague pleasantries and generic banter until their coffees were ready, and Sam waited until their waitress had gone completely out of hearing range before speaking.

 

“So...” he began, fingers tapping restlessly on his coffee cup. “I guess you're wondering why I asked you here.”

 

“Nope. Because guess what, I can actually read minds! I now know everything about you.”

 

“I wouldn't be at all surprised,” Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. “No, but seriously... I just wanna talk.”

 

“I'm all ears!”

 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Ugh, look, I suck at this probably, so... bear with me, please.”

 

“Hey,” Gabriel said softly and reached out to nudge Sam's hand the back of a knuckle. “Don't worry about it. Whatever you have to say I'm sure it'll be okay. I promise not to judge. Unless you tell me you've seen the light and that missionary is the only position for you. Then I'll judge the hell out of you.”

 

“Hah, no, you don't have to worry about that.”

 

Gabriel slumped back in his chair and wiped his forehead dramatically. “Phew! Scared me there for a second!”

 

As always, Gabriel seemed to know exactly what to say and do to make Sam feel at ease, and once he was done laughing, he felt considerably less nervous.

 

“Thing is...” he said eventually. “I like what we've been doing. I like it a lot. But... I would really like for us to do... more.”

 

The huge smile on Gabriel's face made Sam go wobbly with relief. “I am so on board with that, you don't even know, Sam. My work allows me some leeway, so I can definitely find the time for us to do more lengthy scenes. Do you want a contract? Because I'm game if you are.”

 

Sam's brain stuttered to a halt. There was definitely some kind of miscommunication going on. “A... contract?”

 

“Uhm... from the look on your face, I'm guessing that's not what you were angling for,” Gabriel said, his smile deflating like a punctured balloon.

 

“No, I... I wanted to ask if you'd be okay with putting the sex on hold for a while.”

 

Gabriel's jaw dropped for a second before he apparently pulled himself together. “Okay, sure, we could do that,” he said slowly. “But... why?”

 

“Because I _like_ you,” Sam said quickly, before losing his nerve. “And I wanna spend time with you and get to know you.”

 

“As in...”

 

“As in... I'd like to date you. Do it properly. If you want?”

 

The look on Gabriel's face was a mess of conflicting emotions, and Sam dearly wished Gabriel had let him get close enough to have even the slightest chance of deciphering them. All Sam could say for sure was that it was definitely not a good sign, and his heart plummeted.

 

“Yeah, no. That's... not gonna happen, Sam,” Gabriel said finally.

 

“Why not? You don't think we could be something more?”

 

“I'm sure we could be, but I don't _do_ more. It's not my thing. Don't want it, don't need it.” Gabriel's voice was cold and hard, and Sam felt almost ill from it. The same presence Gabriel could use to drive Sam to the most exquisite heights or to make his heart throb with yearning to get closer, that same presence was now employed to drive Sam away, and it took everything he had to not just turn on his heel and run. Because Gabriel seemed suddenly like a person who knew every single one of your weak spots and would not hesitate to hurt you. Badly.

 

Sam swallowed hard, but met Gabriel's eyes dead on. “I think you're lying.”

 

“Do you, now?” Gabriel sneered.

 

“Yeah.” Sam pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly, the edge of a purple-yellow fading bruise just visible. “I think you want something more from me.” Gabriel scowled at it, but didn't respond. “Look,” Sam continued. “I don't know what your deal is, but I think... I think you're afraid. I know I am. But I also think that what we have here could be awesome. If you'd just give it a chance.”

 

Gabriel sent Sam a withering look, and he forced himself to keep his back straight and not cower from what was obviously a defensive strategy, one Sam dearly hoped was only because Gabriel was afraid, not because Sam had misjudged everything. Crossing his arms over his chest, Gabriel gave Sam a long look before slumping down slightly, his entire being pulling inwards instead of pushing at Sam like he was used to. It almost felt like he was about to physically topple forwards, as if Gabriel's expanded self was a corporeal barrier than was suddenly yanked away. Instead of reaching out, he was now closed off. A tightly locked and uncharacteristically tiny sphere that Sam had no idea what to do with.

 

“You said it yourself,” Gabriel stated flatly, his voice icy. “You don't know what my _deal_ is. And if you expect me to fall into your arms and cry about my daddy issues, you can forget it.”

 

“Gabriel-”

 

“No, Sam. Just... go home. Lose my number.” Gabriel's chair screeched against the floor as he pushed it back roughly and got up. “It was fun while it lasted.” With that, he turned on his heel and left without a backwards glance.

 

Only a lifetime of _boys don't cry_ mentality prevented Sam from breaking down right then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The contract Gabriel thinks is happening is explained decently enough at Wikipedia, so because I'm lazy I'm [sending you there.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contract_%28BDSM%29)
> 
> For this chapter I'm especially grateful to [Isa](http://isaisanisa.tumblr.com/) and [Menofsweaters](http://menofsweaters.tumblr.com/) for their input, even though I ended up taking pretty much none of their advice, which does not reflect badly on the quality of said advice in any way! Go love them, they're awesome!
> 
> EDIT: OMG [lookinforsomeabsinth](http://lookinforsomeabsinth.tumblr.com/) made fan art for this chapter! [LOOK! Isn't it perfect?!](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/67109319606/so-since-this-doodle-is-all-your-fault-take-it)  
>  


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of Gabriel's POV! Exciting! It has a slightly different tone than previous chapters, but I felt it fitted Gabriel's character. Enjoy!

Gabriel slammed the door to his apartment behind him so hard that something fell off the wall with a heavy thump. He didn't stop to find out what exactly. Butters, clever mutt that he was, wisely decided to not be his usual attention-whore self and stayed in his soft bed in the kitchen while Gabriel stomped by on his way to the bedroom. He didn't even stop to pull off his shoes or jacket before attacking his bed, pulling the sheets off so roughly they tore slightly at the edges. Blankets and pillows were tossed to the corner of the room and even the mattress was ripped out of the frame, tipping over the bedside lamp as it was shoved against the wall next to the bed. Once there was nothing but the sturdy wooden frame left of Gabriel's soft, opulent nest of a bed he started frantically looking around the room, but there was nothing else there. Nothing of _his_.

 

He cried out with frustration when he realized that Sam had never actually left anything of himself behind, nothing that could be burnt to cinders to eradicate his presence in Gabriel's life. Oh no, it was much much worse. What Sam had left behind was _inside_ Gabriel. Pieces of his life and soul had slipped into the cracks of Gabriel's abused heart, like splinters you don't notice until they're too deep to remove. The urge to claw his own heart out of his chest was as agonizing as it was familiar.

 

Because this was by no means the first time. Gabriel's romantic history was a long and depressing row of failures with only a few tiny bright spots along the way. He'd come to the conclusion a long time ago that no one deserved the amount of shit that came with being Gabriel's significant other. He was aware that he was being a drama queen, because objectively he knew he wasn't a horrible person. But that didn't change the fact that every single one of his previous relationships had tanked gruesomely, and it had always been his fault somehow. You don't argue with fact.

 

Damn Kali and her meddling! _Of course_ she had to let slip to Sam that the marking was significant, and _of course_ Sam would read too much into it. Because Gabriel was just that lucky.

 

When he was done stuffing all the bedding into plastic bags (and fuck his life, they even _smelled_ like Sam), he decided to toss out the rug too. Because Sam had knelt there several times. And he'd looked stunning, long-limbed and gold-tanned against the blood-red shag. Had Gabriel had an artistic bone in his body he would have painted the scene for posterity, but now he was snarling at the stupid rug as it refused to roll up or be even remotely possible for one man to hold on to, and found himself pondering how big the risk of burning his entire place down would be if he just torched the goddamn thing right there on the floor.

 

Instead he called Castiel.

 

Having a brother living in the same apartment building was handy in a lot of ways, and Castiel walked in without knocking only a few minutes later. Butters was ecstatic of course, because these days he saw more of Castiel than of his actual owner. That would have made Gabriel feel shitty if not for the fact that Castiel adored the mutt and they probably had something like shared ownership of the terrier by now.

 

Castiel took one look at the bedroom and sighed. “Another bad breakup? I wasn't even aware you've been seeing anyone.”

 

“I haven't,” Gabriel said sourly. “And yet, I still managed to fuck it up.”

 

“Which would imply that there was something _to_ fuck up.”

 

“Shut up and help me roll up this stupid thing.”

 

The rug wrangling bought Gabriel a beautiful twenty minutes of peace, and they didn't even have to take it very far, because Gabriel's downstairs neighbor Mrs. Pince noticed the ruckus and became rudely excited that it was break-up time again.

 

“It is not!” Gabriel cried, while Castiel just rolled his eyes and navigated the rug through her door. Mrs. Pince was always first on the scene when Gabriel was practicing his top of the line avoidance strategy, throwing everything away that might remotely remind him of the hurt. Her apartment was most likely a panorama of Gabriel's decorating choices over the years by now. He'd feel weird about dumping shit on her that he'd had a depraved ol' time on, but the walls in the building weren't exactly soundproof, so there was no way she didn't already have some idea of where that rug had been.

 

She happily accepted the bedding and the mattress too, which made Castiel look at her strangely, but she just shrugged and mumbled about good quality stuffing. Gabriel didn't give two shits, as long as it was out of his sight.

 

Back in his own apartment he was looking at the couch, debating whether Sam had been on it enough for it to hurt to keep it around, when Castiel sidled up next to him, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Who is she?”

 

“Who?” Gabriel asked distractedly, still occupied with the couch, remembering how Sam had looked on it, curled up under blankets or sitting nervously. Yeah, it probably had to go.

 

“The one you're erasing all memory of.”

 

“Oh. It's not a woman.”

 

Castiel looked at him oddly. “Huh. That's new.”

 

“No it isn't. I've been with guys for years, remember?”

 

“Been with, yes. Dated, no.”

 

Gabriel groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you, this is not a break-up. Ergo, it would stand to reason that there was no dating.”

 

“It would. But your actions tell me otherwise.”

 

“Gimme a break, Cassie. It was just sex, no biggie.”

 

“You look like you want to set your couch on fire. I call that a pretty big biggie.”

 

Anger seared up Gabriel's spine and he whirled around with a snarl, getting right up in Castiel's face. “You can call it whatever the hell you like, but don't tell me what it was or wasn't. And it's also _none of your fucking business_.”

 

Castiel sighed. “You're right, it's not. But I care about you, brother, and it upsets me to see you hurt.”

 

Gabriel deflated slowly under the sincere blue eyes of his only decent sibling, and he clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder, shaking it gently in apology. “Don't worry about it. You should have seen the other guy,” he said flatly, and then hated himself. Because Sam had looked _crushed_.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Turning back to the couch where Butters was now making it clear that anyone wanting to take it away would have to go through him, Gabriel could still feel Castiel's eyes on him. Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and Gabriel resigned himself to the well-meaning but utterly unwelcome fraternal heart-to-heart he could feel coming from a mile away.

 

“It's not your fault, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, Cassie, I love that you somehow still manage to see me as some innocent little snowflake. Trust me, this one was on me.”

 

Castiel frowned so deeply Gabriel didn't even have to look, he could feel it next to him, scrunching up Castiel's whole face.

 

“Then why are you getting rid of things?”

 

“Uh, _hello_? Haven't you just been telling me for the past half hour that I'm having a bad break-up? You obviously think I have some kinda pattern here.”

 

“You do. But this isn't your pattern when you're the one at fault. When that is the case you get drunk.”

 

“Huh.”

 

There was another long silence and goddammit, Gabriel knew there was a lecture coming now. Sure enough, a minute or so later, Castiel stepped in front of him, and used _the laser-eyes_. The ones that felt like they looked straight into your soul, which was just uncalled for. Gabriel shifted with unease under them.

 

“So you're having a break-up, despite not having been in a relationship. You're acting like you're not at fault, while claiming you are. And all of this is happening over a man rather than a woman. You're breaking pattern in a multitude of ways, and you're not even the least bit curious about why that is?”

 

“Nope,” Gabriel said firmly, popping the 'p' just to be annoying.

 

“You know, I never took you for a fool, Gabriel.”

 

“Funny, I always took you for a know-it-all with a stick up your ass.”

 

“Lashing out solves nothing,” Castiel sighed.

 

“What makes you think I want to solve anything?” Gabriel grumbled. And he was _not_ pouting, dammit. “Maybe I just wanna eat Rocky Road and watch Sleepless in Seattle until I'm over it and can move on with my life.”

 

“Yes, move on. Like you always have. From one person to the next, always ending it before they can. Maybe what you're really upset about is that this person wasn't following your neat little script.”

 

“Screw you,” Gabriel seethed. “I've tried to do the whole relationship thing. Time and time again. All it ever got me was heartbreak. So the love 'em and leave 'em method might be flawed, big deal. It's worked for me so far.”

 

“Yes, and look how happy you are,” Castiel said flatly, his sarcasm flawless for once.

 

Gabriel glared. “You're hilarious. Also, pot, meet kettle.”

 

“This pot isn't cleaning out his apartment because of a broken heart.”

 

“Oh, quit the drama, bro. No hearts were broken.”

 

“Then why is half your bedroom now in the possession of your downstairs neighbor?”

 

And goddammit, Gabriel didn't have an answer for that.

 

“When did you get so fucking clever,” he grumbled. “I could have sworn there was a time where you were cute and dumb.”

 

“Yes. Then I turned six.”

 

“That's it, young man, you are _not_ hanging out with Balthazar anymore,” Gabriel drawled, pointing a stern finger at Castiel. “That kid is a bad influence on you! Teaching you unsavory things like people skills and sass.”

 

Castiel huffed out an amused breath, but then his usual sombre mask was back.

 

“Gabriel... are you in love with this person?”

 

The laughter that escaped him was bitter, and way too close to being the kind of laughing you do because the only other alternative is crying. The astounding naiveté of his little brother never ceased to amaze Gabriel.

 

“Oh, Cas. Baby bro. If only it were that simple.” He sighed heavily and scrunched his eyes shut. “Love was never the problem,” he said quietly. “All the people I've ever been with... I loved every single one of 'em. That's why it hurts so fucking much every time it falls apart.”

 

The hand on his shoulder and the blessed silence accompanying it was the best comfort Gabriel could have asked for.

 

 

* * *

 

He didn't eat Rocky Road. Or watch Sleepless in Seattle. Although Netflix did suggest it to him, which was disturbing, and made Gabriel wonder if the universe was trying to tell him something. But whatever, Gabriel was moving on. He was. Really. His bedroom was all shiny and new and smelling of plastic, Sam's number was deleted from Gabriel's phone, and the couch had been febrezed, because Butters had actually growled at Gabriel when he'd tried to remove it, so he'd had no choice but to let it stay for now. But apart from that, Gabriel was over it. So very over it.

 

Right up until the moment he tried picking up someone new.

 

“God fucking dammit!” he yelled and slammed the door to Castiel's apartment behind him. Castiel emerged from the kitchen, Butters nestled in his arms, and frowned at Gabriel, still fuming by the door.

 

“I'm assuming your night out didn't go as planned,” he said flatly.

 

“You'd be assuming right,” Gabriel snarled back and stomped to the living room. He threw himself down on Castiel's rock hard couch and cursed some more. “Fucking load of crap shit, just...” Butters squirmed out of Castiel's hands and hopped onto Gabriel's heaving chest, because clearly the best time to ask for attention was when Gabriel was in anguish. He did scratch the dog's ears, though, so maybe the damn mutt was right.

 

“Do I need to look up more profanities for you, or are you just catching your breath?”

 

Castiel's unimpressed glower did nothing to improve Gabriel's abysmal mood.

 

Once was a fluke. Twice was a coincidence. Eight times was just fucking uncalled for, that's what. He'd given himself a week to settle after what was definitely not heartbreak, no matter what might have been said or done in the aftermath, and then it was time to get back on the horse. Gabriel's sex drive had always been fairly high, so it was rare for him to go a whole week with nothing but his own hand. Not that he'd even done that a lot either, because it was as if every time he'd closed his eyes, all he'd been able to imagine had been long limbs, dimples, broad shoulders and hazel eyes in a very specific combination. But enough was enough.

 

He'd gone out, he'd mingled and he'd utterly failed at picking anyone up. He'd shrugged it off and tried again. He'd gotten as far as a nice chat with a petite blonde before something he'd said or done had made her snicker at him and pretty much run off.

 

And it had kept right on happening again, and again, and again.

 

It had been two months now, almost longer than he'd known Sam in total, and somehow Gabriel was still not over it.

 

“Why don't you just call him?” Castiel sighed, rubbing his forehead as if _he_ was the one having a crisis.

 

“Call who?” Gabriel asked acidly, lacing his words with as much mocking as possible, hoping to make Castiel back off.

 

“You know who I mean. You're being an idiot.”

 

“And I suppose you're drawing on your _substantial_ wealth of romantic experience for this therapy session?”

 

“No, I'm drawing on yours. You've never been this bad over a break-up. Not even over Angie.”

 

“Don't you bring up Angie, bro!” Gabriel barked. “That is a no-fly zone, and you know it!”

 

“What about Ziggy, then? Or Svad-”

 

“Don't you dare!” Gabriel hissed, pushing himself off the couch, displacing a concerned dog and half the cushions in his anger. “This is not a fucking late night special of Here Is Your Life, Gabriel Shurley!”

 

“No, it's the weekly episode of Woe Is Me, airing only in my apartment!” Castiel snapped, and Gabriel fumed.

 

“Are you calling me whiny?!”

 

“No, I'm calling you an idiot.”

 

Gabriel's eyes blazed with cold fury and his shoulders tightened. “I don't have to stand here and listen to this.”

 

“No, you can leave,” Castiel replied coldly. “You can stop coming to my place every Friday and Saturday, bemoaning your entirely self-inflicted romantic concerns. You can go home, alone, and keep telling yourself it's better off that way. You keep telling me to stay out of your business? Fine. You can stay out of mine.”

 

And before he knew it, Castiel's door slammed shut behind Gabriel, and Butters whined next to him.

 

“Well fuck.”

 

* * *

 

If Gabriel had been a more balanced and self-aware person, this would probably have been the moment where he realized that his severe case of denial was fucking up his life. But instead he decided that clearly he was just still too hung up on one dumb little fling and that he needed to try harder. So rather than try to pick up someone new, he dug up the numbers of a few old contacts and by the following Friday he had a date. Sort of. Order-in sushi and sex after was probably more of a slightly classier booty call. But Gabriel really wasn't picky. As it turned out, though... Freya kinda was.

 

“That was pathetic,” Freya huffed.

 

“Ugh, I'm sorry.” Gabriel groaned, rubbing his face with both hands, half-hoping the pillow would just swallow him whole. “I'm just off my game these days.”

 

“Well you better get _on_ your game again for round two, because I didn't buy you sushi for that half-assed effort!”

 

And Gabriel would have. He really would have. But as he was psyching himself up to give it his all, he had the horrifying realization that he didn't want to. He _really didn't want to_. And he knew exactly why.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“That'd better be a promise, and not a lead-up to a swift exit,” Freya hissed at him.

 

Gabriel snarled at himself in frustration and flung the covers off so hard they almost slapped Freya in the face. He jumped to his feet and couldn't decide whether to run or punch something, so instead he paced beside the bed, making Freya blink with surprise.

 

“Gabe, are you okay?”

 

“NO!” Gabriel exploded. “No, I am not okay, because I feel like I just cheated on someone I'm not even in a relationship with! I was the one who freakin' ended it! And it wasn't even a relationship! FUCK!”

 

Freya's jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she watched Gabriel pace and rant, uncaring of his nudity, his arms underlining every word with jerky, agitated movements.

 

“I tried, dammit, I really tried, but I couldn't even pick up someone from the sleaziest joints! Hell, I even tried going sub, but that worked even less! Couldn't even find a quick bathroom BJ, for Christ's sake, and come on, all I'd need for that is a gay bar and a mouth!” he yelled. “And you know what the worst part is? Castiel was right. He told me from the get go that I was being an idiot, but did I listen? Noooo, I had to know better and power on through, and goddammit it's been months, even if I tried to fix things, Sam probably wouldn't even talk to me, _fuck_!”

 

He ran trembling hands through his hair, shaking his head as if that could make the anguish go away. “Jesus Christ, I did it again. I ran away and fucked it all up, just like always. Fuck, I've ruined everything, yet again. Why the hell did I even think it would ever change?”

 

“Well it sure won't change as long as you're just pacing a groove in my carpet and ranting about it,” Freya cut in, and Gabriel stopped in his tracks, turning his baffled eyes to her.

 

“What?”

 

Freya sighed and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, have you ever considered trying to fix things before just deciding that the battle is lost?”

 

“Trust me,” he huffed, “this can't be fixed.”

 

“And you know this how?”

 

“I just know,” he said weakly, and then backed up in sudden terror as Freya hopped out of bed as well, descending on him in all her naked fury.

 

“That! That is bullshit, and you know it! You're just too goddamn afraid to face your mistakes, so instead you run like a coward and fuck everything up even more!”

 

“Hey, you don't know jack shit about-”

  
“Oh, I know enough. How long have we known each other, hm? Fifteen years? Twenty? I know you, Gabriel, no matter how much you put up a front.”

 

“Oh, really?” Gabriel said acidly.

 

“Yes, really,” Freya insisted, before her face softened. “I know you,” she said again, quieter. “I know you're still hoping to find love, despite all the hurt. But I also know you're too afraid of having your heart broken again to really trust anyone with it. Even your closest friends. I know that as much as you like inflicting pain you're also a romantic.”

 

Gabriel huffed dismissively, and Freya poked him in the chest. “Don't scoff. You know it's true.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest and pursed her lips at him. “Look, I don't know the details of this whole mess, but obviously this Sam person has gotten under your skin. What made you run? Did she want a ring?”

 

“Why does everyone assume it was a woman?”

  
“Because women are the ones you fall for. With guys you have sort of a shitty tendency to assume it's always no strings attached,” she sighed. “But this Sam is a guy then? And you have feelings for him?”

 

Gabriel had to turn his back on her, because goddammit, Freya had to go and make everything emotional. He crossed his arms over his chest too, feeling like he was cracking open and trying to protect his soft parts. “I'd say that would be pretty obvious by now,” he grumbled.

 

Freya reached out and dug her nails into his shoulder as she turned him around to face her with a yank that almost toppled him over before he righted himself. “Then what the hell are you doing here?! Why aren't you with him trying to fix things?!”

 

“Because! As you so fucking bluntly pointed out, I am a coward! I don't know what I'd do if he told me to get out of his face!” Gabriel cried, mortified at the cracking of his voice.

 

“If he does,” Freya said gently, “then at least you'll know that you tried.”

 

“Not much of a comfort,” Gabriel mumbled, the anger and frustration bleeding out of him, leaving him exhausted.

 

Freya pulled him into a hug which he accepted because he was just too frayed at the edges to refuse. “I know. But if you never try, you never win. That's life, Gabriel.”

 

“What do I do if I lose, then?” he whispered into her shoulder.

 

“ _Then_ you move on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always huge thanks to my overworked beta. *kisses*
> 
> No offense is meant towards gay bars. Gabriel just has a talent for finding those especially seedy places. ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta. You rock!

The days following the meeting at the café went by as if in a daze for Sam. He kept waiting for a text or a call or something from Gabriel, explaining that it had just been too surprising or that he'd overreacted. Sam didn't try to call. _Lose my number_ had been quite clear enough.

 

Dean noticed after a couple of weeks that Sam was looking more glum than usual, and as was his way he called out a mild insult rather than ask anything, and Sam went _ballistic_. After days upon days of nothing but his own doubts and the hurt of being so thoroughly shut down, Sam was already nearing his breaking point. Dean never even talked back as Sam screamed out all the anguish directly in his brother's face. The only time Dean responded at all was when Sam reached the peak of his rant and screamed “ _are you happy now?_ ”

 

“No,” Dean said, and pulled Sam into a hug that was so unexpected that he deflated completely and hugged back hard enough that he thought he heard Dean's ribs creak.

 

After that things went back to normal. Or as close to normal as it had ever been after Ruby, which was pretty much the clock Sam still set his life after. Before Ruby. During Ruby. After Ruby. _Before_ he had been young, confused and chomping at the bit, eager to get away from Kansas and the slow death of their family as Dad grieved himself to an early grave. Sam had gone away to college, scholarship in hand, half sure he'd killed his father in the process if the way Dad and Dean had reacted had been anything to go by. Sam had made it through pre-law and a handful of failed relationships when Ruby walked into his life and promptly destroyed it.

 

He'd been so immersed in her he hadn't even come home for the funeral when Dad had eventually wrapped his truck around a tree, aided by hard liquor and sorrow. Dean had yelled at Sam, but taken care of everything anyway, like he always had. Meanwhile Sam had been busy following Ruby around like a lost puppy, completely ignoring the fact that he'd merely handed control of his life over to someone else, and that he was just as trapped as he'd been under his father's roof. It had taken losing his scholarship and having to punch new holes in his belt due to weight-loss before he'd realized just how destructive Ruby had been. Dean had moved to the same city by then, Dad no longer keeping him in Kansas, and it was pure chance that he'd been there to literally pull Sam from the fire, just as he'd done when their mother had died and taken their dad's soul with her.

 

Sam would have been a lot more grateful for it if Dean hadn't spent every day since then emotionally blackmailing him with it. Because clearly Sam couldn't be trusted with his own life, let alone tying his own goddamn shoes. Dean cleaned up Sam's messes, because that's what he did. Sam didn't think he even knew how not to anymore. Dean had found them a place to live together, gotten Sam a job, therapy, and enough guilt on a daily basis to ensure they never truly bonded again.

 

But it seemed it was time for a new age. _After Gabriel_.

 

Dean was surprisingly supportive, offering more gruff back-slaps than usual and even took Sam out to a movie he'd wanted to see for a while. The images on the screen might as well have been static for all that Sam cared, and it must have shown on his face, because as they left the theater Dean told the chilly autumn air that he might have overreacted, and that he was sorry it ended like it did. Sam could have cried from how pointless and _too late_ it was.

 

So they went back to what they did before. Dean worked far too much, trying to be the parent neither of them had ever really had, and only succeeded in slowly giving himself an ulcer from stress and worry. Sam worked because it was better than doing nothing, and he still had hopes of saving up enough to go back to school some day. He went back to Elysian Fields once, only to realize he didn't really want anyone, kinky or not, so he'd gone home without having even a single drink, exchanging a weary wave with the Chief on his way out. It only belatedly occurred to him that he could have bumped into Gabriel there, and the hurricane of conflicting feelings this provoked in him made him drop by a liquor store on his way home. Dean didn't even argue when he saw the bottles of cheap booze. He merely took out two glasses and helped Sam empty them. No one ever claimed their coping methods were healthy, but Sam was comforted that for once at least he wasn't coping alone.

 

In a way, Sam was almost glad the break happened. He and Dean were closer than they had really been since before Sam hit his teens and realized that their dad was in fact not a god, but instead a terribly flawed and wounded person. It sometimes seemed like Dean had never quite made it to that realization, but in a world where the only thing defining them was themselves, Sam was amazed to find that they could actually stand each other better than he'd thought. With no Dad, no Ruby and no Gabriel to tip the balance, they grew closer than he would have imagined possible.

 

Sam felt sick from the guilt of still desperately wanting Gabriel anyway.

 

But seeing as there would obviously be no Gabriel in his life, Sam took what he could get, and all things considered he was content.

 

Until the call happened.

 

Sam dropped the mail in his hand when he saw the caller ID. Just home from work, he'd been in the process of taking off his coat and boots, but instead he froze in the narrow hallway as his phone flashed “ _Gabriel_ ” at him, beeping and buzzing in his hand. He broke out in a sweat and his heart rate skyrocketed until it felt like it echoed its jackrabbit pace through the empty apartment. His stupid default voicemail would soon take over. Sam knew this. He could just... let it go. But somehow his thumb connected the call and he stared at the active call screen for a long stunned moment before raising it to his ear.

 

“Sam?”

 

“Yeah,” he said flatly, automatically confirming he was there more than offering any real greeting.

 

“I... wasn't sure you'd pick up.” Gabriel's voice was thin, as if he was almost afraid to speak too loud, and Sam didn't like it. It wasn't Gabriel at all. Even when Gabriel was at his most caring and gentle, his voice had always had substance. Volume. _Power_. Sam hardly even recognized the Gabriel on the other end of the line.

 

“What do you want?” He wasn't trying to be hostile, he just didn't want to have to listen to this weird, two-dimensional version of the man he'd fallen for. It hurt in an unexpected way, and frankly Sam had had more than enough hurt over the past few months.

 

There was a pause before Gabriel spoke, his voice finally gaining a little more of its old force. “I wanted to apologize, first of all. I was totally and completely out of line. Overreacting doesn't even come close to what I did. I stomped all over your feelings and left you in the gutter. And I am so very sorry, Sam.” He took an audible deep breath. “I don't... expect anything from you. I'm pretty sure you hate me right now. I mean, _I_ would. But... if you'll let me... I'd like to try and fix things. Make it up to you somehow. Anything you want, I'll do it. Just name it.”

 

Sam was stunned. He didn't know what he'd expected when he'd picked up, but despite all his hopes it wasn't this. And as much as his heart thrashed in his chest for him to jump at the chance, the hurt was still there. Ironically, his first thought was still, as it had been since almost the first moment, to run to Gabriel for comfort. But since Gabriel was currently the source of the hurt, all Sam could do was stand there, frozen, breathing shakily into the phone.

 

“Sam...? Are you still there?” Gabriel voice was back to that quivering, paper-thin imitation of itself, and Sam wanted to throw the phone at the wall.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm here.” He swallowed hard. “I need... time. I need to think.”

 

There was a rustle, most likely from Gabriel nodding without thinking. “That's totally fine. Take as much time as you need. I can wait.” There was another pause and another deep breath, obviously the kind you take to gather courage for something, and Sam braced himself.

  
“Do you... would you prefer complete radio silence from me, or can I text you? Just... keep the line open?”

 

Sam wasn't sure what he wanted. No, that was untrue, what he _wanted_ was Gabriel right in front of him, bringing him to his knees and telling him how good he was being. That's what he wanted. But what he _needed_ was to make sure he wasn't making another huge mistake.

 

“Fine, whatever. I'll... let you know.”

 

He didn't wait for Gabriel to say goodbye before hanging up. He didn't think he could stand one more word in that defeated tone of voice that made it feel like Gabriel was some kind of pod person. Even on the phone he'd always been larger than life, and hearing him struggle to even form words was a whole new level of torture Sam just didn't need.

 

He was still in his boots and coat, sitting heavily in the kitchen, when Dean came home an hour later.

 

“Dude, I know we paid the bills last time, and no matter what I might have said at any point about layers, moderation is key, you know?” Dean joked, until he came close enough to see Sam's face. “What the hell... Sammy?”

 

“He called,” Sam croaked, still stunned and not entirely sure he hadn't just imagined the whole thing.

 

Dean apparently made the conscious decision not to be an asshole, because rather than going on the offensive he sat down on the other chair in their tiny kitchen and folded his hands on the table.

 

“Okay. What did he want?”

 

“He apologized. Fuck, he actually apologized,” Sam choked, realizing when he said it out loud that it had actually happened. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, feeling brittle and confused. “He wants to try and make it up to me.”

 

Dean's silence was telling, and Sam braced himself for the outburst that was sure to follow, but instead Dean just cleared his throat and perhaps clenched his fingers together a little tighter.

 

“And... what do _you_ want?”

 

Sam blinked, completely unprepared for such a neutral response. “I... I dunno,” he stammered. “I mean... what we had was amazing, but maybe it was too soon? Maybe I did jump in the deep end again. Maybe I should have given myself more time after...” he couldn't bring himself to say Ruby's name, but with Dean he would never need to.

 

“You want my two cents?” Dean asked quietly, and Sam nodded, feeling floored by this reasonable version of his normally crass big brother

 

Dean sighed and visibly steeled himself. “If it was up to me, I'd want you to find some sweet little wife, make me some nieces and nephews and settle down somewhere. But I'm starting to think the day you fall for someone sweet the freakin' world will end.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Christ, you never did make things easy on anyone. But then again... I guess you wouldn't be you if you did.”

 

Sam frowned. He wasn't sure what Dean was trying to say, and it felt like prompting him to clarify would only ruin it. So Sam forced himself to wait, sweating inside his coat.

 

“Thing is...” Dean started again after a long pause. “Thing is that I know I give you shit on a daily basis. Because I think you need it. I think you're naïve and in serious need of some reality checks. But...I guess I'm starting to realize that you've been getting those in spades without my help.” He groaned and rubbed a hand over his hair, mussing the short strands. “I guess what I'm saying is that... if this jerkface makes you happy, then I think you should go for it.” The last words sounded like Dean had to forcibly push them out, and afterwards he looked like he'd smelled something bad.

 

As much as Sam appreciated the sentiment – and he really did – it was just too strange to hear it from Dean. Dean who had always been the first to carve Sam a new one for every mistake, who had appointed himself judge and jury of Sam's life, was suddenly opening up to the possibility that maybe he shouldn't. Sam was starting to freak out a little.

 

“Why?” he couldn't help but ask.

 

Dean hung his head, as if he'd been hoping Sam would ask anything other than that. “It's just... you're always so extreme, Sam. It's all or nothing with you. Do you even know what you're like when you're unhappy?”

 

Sam shook his head, feeling like the world was tilting. He honestly had no idea what Dean was talking about.

 

“You turn into a goddamn zombie. You go through the motions, but there's no one home. You only eat when I tell you to, you only sleep because you have to, and most of the time you're just in your head. And it scares the freakin' hell out of me, Sammy.” Dean swallowed hard, obviously struggling with the words, but apparently judging them important enough to suffer through.

 

“After... Ruby... you were so angry with me. So fucking pissed off that I waltzed in and took over everything. And you know what? I've never been so happy in my life. Because you hating me was more life than I'd seen in you since before you moved away from home.” He sat up straight suddenly, as if he was rapidly reaching his limit for sharing and caring, and Sam wasn't surprised. He'd never heard Dean talk so long about anything emotional, and it couldn't last. But Dean wasn't done, and after clearing his throat loudly a couple of times, he leaned in again, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

 

“I'll be honest, Sam, I don't understand why this kinky fuck matters to you, but... I don't want a zombie for a brother, okay? So if... if this is what it's gonna take for you to be a real person again, then I'll shake the douchebag's hand and let you ride off into the sunset with him.”

 

Dean got up, clearly done with the whole thing, but Sam felt like he was gonna break inside if he didn't do something, so before Dean could leave the kitchen, Sam grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug. Dean huffed, closer to his usual self when dealing with Sam's chick-flick ideas, but he did hug back. And when Sam croaked “love you, Dean,” into his shoulder, Dean just humphed and nodded, and let Sam do his thing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to post this before New Year, but alas, my beta was held up by the holidays. But here it is. Enjoy! As always, huge thanks to my wonderful beta. <3

Having Dean's stamp of approval didn't make Sam run into Gabriel's arms, no matter how much he wanted to, but at least it made him feel a lot less guilty for considering it.

 

He realized after a while that he had in fact been slightly naïve. Because while it sounded like a great idea to _do things right_ and start over, there was no real way of doing that. He and Gabriel already had so much history, gathered over only a few short months, and just because it was mostly sex didn't mean it mattered less. Sam was still struggling with the idea that sex could be something important, but there was no doubt that it was through sex that Sam had fallen in love with Gabriel. Every time he'd looked up at Gabriel from his knees, he'd never once been afraid of him. He'd always trusted Gabriel with everything, and while Sam wasn't sure that was entirely healthy, he was starting to accept that maybe it was just part of his personality to latch onto people so hard, and in truth he felt he was lucky for falling for someone who was so determined to have control over Sam in the bedroom only.

 

Granted, Sam didn't know what it would be like to be with Gabriel outside of that, but considering how careful Gabriel had been about not letting Sam jump into something he wasn't ready for, he felt confident that they could work it out. In time.

 

But first, Sam was going to take responsibility for himself and his desires, so he finally managed to steel himself enough to look up kinky things on the internet, including BDSM. And from the things he found, Sam couldn't blame Dean for jumping to conclusions. There were some truly scary things out there. The fetish club was tame compared to the things some people got off to online, and Sam felt stupid for being so afraid of looking into it, because it took no time at all to make it terrifyingly evident that Sam was perfectly well adjusted compared to a huge number of people out there. If anything, Sam's idea of kinky was actually pretty vanilla when looking at the big picture, and while there was no doubt that missionary would never be enough for him, Sam's turn-ons were shockingly average.

 

And holy fuck, did the internet ever give him _ideas_.

 

But nothing killed his boner faster than realizing exactly how destructive and dangerous Ruby had been. While there were definitely some people into all the pain and abuse she'd been so fond of, the overwhelming majority agreed that it was no way to treat anyone, sexually or otherwise. A few of the things she'd been into made Sam want to vomit when he looked them up, found out just how dangerous it had been, and how they both could have been permanently damaged from it. She'd loved fire, blood, knives, and violence, without a hint of method to it, and somehow she'd made Sam think it was nothing to worry about. They were freaks, what did it matter? The few times he'd approached her with suggestions of something else she'd made faces of such disgust that Sam had been convinced that _he_ was the deviant one, and coupled with the reactions of a couple of previous partners, Sam's view of what was kinky had definitely been somewhat skewed.

 

But the internet was a surprisingly helpful place, and Sam spent weeks researching and rearranging his way of thinking. Dean walked in on him once reading a long how-to guide on flogging, and while that color on his face wasn't exactly normal, all Dean did was grunt a greeting and leave the room again. Sam spent a long moment being horrified before crumbling into laughter, and Dean's annoyed _“Shut your face!”_ from the next room only made him laugh harder.

 

Through it all, Gabriel was a quiet presence in the background. He'd text every few days, sharing anecdotes and jokes, or just wishing good morning or goodnight, and Sam was warmed by it. Sometimes he texted back, sometimes he didn't, but there was no doubt that Gabriel had been serious in wanting to make things right. He was undeterred by the irregular replies and kept up a steady stream of casual contact.

 

At first Sam didn't respond, too busy re-evaluating himself, and still feeling a little too brittle to get too close again. But eventually the urge to re-connect became strong enough that he wrote back. It was just a simple goodnight in response to Gabriel's, but it made him feel good, and the smiley-face he got back made everything feel right for the first time since the café. It finally seemed like everything was going to be okay.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel was going insane. Slowly but surely.

 

Raised in a deeply religious family, he'd grown up with the unquestionable knowledge that, with enough faith, one could overpower any crude demands of the flesh. Mind over matter in its most fanatical form. It had taken years of self doubt, confusion, and shame, not to mention quite a few poor life choices, before Gabriel had come to the realization that while he might be _able_ to ignore his urges, he really didn't _want_ to.

 

He was a hedonistic creature, finding his fulfillment in the physical far more than in the spiritual. He had a high sex drive, a gigantic sweet tooth, and a very base appreciation for anything that made his nerve endings sing. Since making his stand against his family, by some miracle without being disowned, Gabriel had made a point of never restricting himself again unless he had extremely good reason.

 

Sam? Sam was definitely a good reason.

 

It had been more than a decade since Gabriel had taken a break from regular sex for more than a couple of weeks, but since the awkward evening with Freya, Gabriel had kept to himself. His porn providers probably handed out double Christmas bonuses this year from his contributions alone, but as much as he ached for hands on him other than his own, he powered through. He didn't want some random stranger, no matter how much his dick was telling him otherwise. For once the demands of his heart were loudest, and, weirdly, even his brain was agreeing. Usually he would have convinced himself by now that there was no point and it wasn't worth it, but no matter how much he doubted himself and feared that it would never work out between him and Sam, the facts were impossible to ignore.

 

No one had ever made him feel as comfortable and happy as Sam. Even though Gabriel had been one hundred percent sure that what they had was strictly casual all the way through, there was no denying the goofy grin he'd had on his face every time Sam's name lit up his phone or the thrill of excitement at every new meeting they arranged. Gabriel couldn't even think of a single actual _date_ he'd ever been as excited for as the glorified booty calls he'd had with Sam. And Gabriel had been in love before. Several times. Frankly, he'd been under the impression that he'd loved all of his hookups in some way, his love of life and physicality bleeding into his emotional attachments. But Sam... was somehow different.

 

Gabriel wasn't naive enough to think that what he'd had with Sam had been deep, undying love, but more than anything they'd had potential. So much so that when confronted with all the possibilities it entailed, Gabriel had simply panicked. Swearing off casual sex seemed like a small penance for being a coward and a douchebag. Even if it did make him feel like he was losing his mind.

 

Apparently he wasn't the only one considering that option, because it was only three weeks before Castiel was at his door.

 

“You haven't asked me to look after Butters for a while. Are you all right?”

 

Torn between the guilt over being a dick and the annoyance at Castiel immediately assuming something was wrong, Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.

 

“Hey bro. Fancy seeing you here. Thought you were too busy being pissed at me.”

 

Castiel shrugged. “I was. But you usually don't stop contacting me completely when we argue. I was starting to think you'd decided to keep Butters from me as leverage.”

 

“Hah, no. No, I was an asshole, but even I wouldn't do that,” Gabriel chuckled and stepped aside so Castiel could enter.

 

“Where is he, then?”

 

“Oh, I had to shut him in the kitchen to cool off. He's been chewing on the coffee table again. I think he misses you.” Castiel's face was hard to read at the best of times, but Gabriel knew him better than anyone, and didn't miss the soft grimace and the small tug at his mouth that said the feeling was mutual. Plus, he immediately went to the kitchen to say hello, and was met with excited barking and whimpering as he crouched down to pet his canine friend.

 

“Sorry I was such a dick, Cas,” Gabriel muttered behind him. “I know I'm a pain in your ass sometimes, and I take you for granted a lot.”

 

Castiel sighed, and there was a slump to his shoulders that made Gabriel's heart hurt a little. Clearly Castiel had other burdens to worry about than a single dumbass brother with love life issues, and said brother had been too absorbed in his own mess to see it.

 

“It's all right,” Castiel said evenly.

 

“No, it's not,” Gabriel protested. “It's not all right.”

 

Castiel shrugged. “Perhaps. But you know what they say. Realizing there's a problem is the first step to solving it.”

 

Something in Castiel's tone of voice had a distinct flavor of _leave it be_ , so Gabriel nodded and shelved his concerns for later. “Touché, bro.”

 

“Does this mean you'll stop coming to my place every weekend, bemoaning your abysmal social life?”

 

“Way to kick a guy when he's down, Cassie,” Gabriel grumbled.

 

Surprisingly, this made Castiel stand and face him. “Are you, though?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Are you in fact down? Usually I find it almost laughably easy to predict how you'll react to things, but right now I honestly have no idea what's going on with you.”

 

Gabriel was all ready to protest, because seriously, it wasn't like he was some kind of fuddy duddy, completely set in his routines, but it seemed counterproductive to get worked up again, just as they were mending fences. And frankly, Castiel did have a point, if all the stupid patterns he'd listed during the not-breakup were any indication. Besides, Castiel wasn't the type to deliberately try to rile anyone up. He spoke his mind, open and frank, and a lot of people couldn't always deal with that. But Gabriel knew Castiel, and it was clear that he wasn't trying to offend, he was just worried. And Gabriel couldn't fault him for that.

 

“I'm... not great, I admit it.”

 

“Please tell me you didn't have Andy watch Butters again. The fumes from his apartment alone-”

 

“Nah, don't worry. Me and Butters have been having some quality time at home. If it can be called _quality_ time when both parties are so frustrated we could start a small fire from the friction alone.”

 

Castiel stared at him as if he'd grown an extra head. “You... haven't been out?”

 

“No, and before you ask, I'm not sick and I haven't lost my marbles... _yet_.”

 

There was more staring, and it went on for so long Gabriel ended up squirming. “Seriously, Cas, could you turn down the peepers, please? You're doing the laser-eyes thing again.”

 

“This is about Sam, isn't it?”

 

Gabriel grimaced. “Yeah, well, as you so _delicately_ pointed out, I've been kind of an idiot about him. I was lucky enough to have some sense knocked into me by an old friend.”

 

“I'm glad someone could,” Castiel said sincerely. “So what happened?”

 

“I... reached out. I called him and he didn't hang up. He also didn't forgive me, but baby steps, you know?” He added a little half shrug, trying to convey how everything was still sort of undecided. “We've been texting a bit. At first he didn't answer me, but considering how much of an asshole I was, I think I deserved the waiting.”

 

“And now?” Castiel prompted when Gabriel trailed off.

 

A slow smile settled on Gabriel's face. Because no, things weren't good yet, but... “We're talking, at least. Sometimes I like to think maybe we're flirting, but I might be deluding myself. I don't think I ever learned the subtle art of long courtship.”

 

Castiel put both hands on Gabriel's shoulders and said: “It's never too late to learn,” with such grave importance in his voice that Gabriel cracked up.

  
“Shit, sorry, bro. I know you mean what you're saying right now, but jesus, this isn't a matter of life and death, you know.”

 

Gabriel was expecting a confused frown or maybe a deadpan question, but obviously they were both breaking their patterns, because instead of removing his hands, Castiel used them to pull Gabriel in for a tight hug, for once saying everything with one simple gesture.

 

“Me too, Cas. Me too,” Gabriel said against Castiel's shoulder and hugged back just as tightly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my overworked beta. <3

Sam came home from work one day, roughly four months after what he'd come to think of in his head as “the café thing”, because Dean was the one who had a flair for whimsically naming things, and it was all in Sam's head anyway, so what was the point. He was feeling vaguely cranky for no obvious reason, and since he'd have the place to himself for a couple more hours he grabbed the laptop, and shut himself in his room for some nice and simple stress relief. He'd been so afraid of what he might learn about himself that he'd never really explored the joys of free, internet-provided smut, and doing so now still felt like a novelty. But, considering the enormous wealth of porn in the internet history Dean never erased, Sam was definitely not the only one indulging.

 

He picked one of his most recent favorite videos and skipped to the best parts, not in the mood for bad lines or slow build-up. It was a kink scene of a petite, curvy woman, who looked hilariously like a pre-school teacher or something, whipping the hell out of a broad-shouldered, bearded dude with a heavily furred back. Neither of them were really Sam's type as such, but it didn't matter. It was more important what they were doing, and it had barely been three thwaps of the riding crop before he had his cock out and stroked himself roughly.

 

The conflicted whimpers of the guy in the video, who seemed to constantly hover on a knife's edge between pleasure and pain, got Sam riding the wave towards orgasm in no time at all. He couldn't even decide which part he'd like to play in a scenario like that. It felt like all elements of it appealed to him. The sharp sounds of the crop, the whimpers and groans, the soft, disapproving tuts of the woman as her sub squirmed, and the way his pale buttocks were rapidly streaked red. It all made Sam near dizzy with arousal.

 

He thrust up into his fist, the end so close he could taste it, when he had the vague, lust-addled thought that he wished someone was there with him. And just like that, all of the delicious tension fizzled like a leaky balloon, and Sam felt his cock slowly wilt in his hand as he realized that he was an idiot. He did have someone who would be more than willing, and that someone was patiently waiting for Sam to make up his damn mind about where to go with this. He felt supremely stupid, sitting there with his dick hanging out of his pants, having deep, life-changing revelations about his feelings.

 

The fear that he'd be making a mistake going back to Gabriel was still there, but somehow, without Sam noticing it, apparently the longing for him had slowly overtaken the fear. And while Sam was being honest with himself, he might as well admit that his last few jerk-off sessions had definitely involved Gabriel in various ways. Anything from a phantom feeling of familiar hands on his skin, right up to and including Gabriel's voice in his head, talking him through the whole thing from start to finish, only to be staunchly ignored immediately after climax, because more than anything it had made Sam feel pathetic.

 

But suddenly it felt more pathetic to just sit there alone when he could be having brain-meltingly good sex, tried and tested, with someone he truly cared about. He wasn't quite ready to trust that Gabriel wouldn't hurt him again, but they could work on that, and Sam would really rather be having orgasms during that process.

 

Before he could chicken out he pulled out his phone and tapped out a quick text.

 

* * *

 

[If you were serious when you said you were willing to do anything to make it right, then come to my place ASAP.]

 

Gabriel stared at the phone in his hand, jaw slowly dropping and his heart speeding up until it was hammering in his throat.

 

“Mr Shurley!” someone said sharply, and Gabriel's head snapped up to look at Zachariah's smug face. “I guess your personal life is more important than the fact that you're in a meeting,” he sneered, sarcasm dripping off his words, because Zach was a complete dickhead who should really get laid more, in Gabriel's humble opinion. Maybe then he'd realize that the job he was so totally, utterly and erotically invested in couldn't hold a candle to a few decent orgasms. Or like... a hug. Gabriel was pretty sure he didn't get enough of those either.

 

Smiling brightly, Gabriel jumped up and kicked his chair back. “You know what, Zachie-boy? You're right! It is! Cookie for you!” Then he turned on his heel, leaving his papers behind and skipped out of the room.

 

“I'll have you fired!” Zach screamed behind him.

 

“You can tryyyyy,” Gabriel sing-songed and broke into a run towards the elevators. Only a short cab ride away, Sam was waiting for him.

 

[Be there in 10.]

 

* * *

 

The cap driver made the 15 minute trip during rush hour to Sam and Dean's dingy place in 11 minutes and 42 seconds, after Gabriel threw the entire cash content of his wallet at him. There was no elevator, but Gabriel might as well have had wings from how fast he flew up the stairs to the fourth floor. At the door he took a few seconds to compose himself and try not to sound like he was dying before ringing the doorbell. He might as well not have bothered, because the Sam who ripped the door open looked frenzied, as if pausing for breath would literally kill him, and he yanked Gabriel across the threshold by his tie, slamming the door behind them. Gabriel's feet almost left the floor from how frantically Sam threw his arms around him, pulling him up for a kiss. And holy smokes, _what a kiss!_

 

Whatever Gabriel had thought Sam needed him for, this wasn't it, and although his brain was rapidly melting from glorious sensory overload after such lengthy deprivation, he had a niggling worry that something wasn't right. Goddammit, being a responsible adult sucked balls sometimes, and totally not in the fun way. He allowed himself a long, delicious minute of heat, closeness and desperation, pulse hammering in his ears, before he forced himself to pull away, looking up at Sam, their breaths rapid and hot between them.

 

“Sam... kiddo, you sure this is what you want?”

 

Sam kissed him one more time, harsh and hungry before answering. “I'm not gonna regret it, if that's what you're asking. We gotta talk, yeah, but right now I want this. I _need_ this.”

 

There was no possible reality where Gabriel could or would have refused that.

 

“What,” he panted between more kisses. “What do you want? Name it. Anything you want.”

 

Sam groaned against him, and Gabriel swallowed the sound greedily. “I want,” Sam gasped. “I want you to put me on my knees. I want you to grab my hair and fuck my mouth, right here, right now. I want you to use me, talk to me, tell me I'm good.” It seemed like Sam wanted to keep going, but Gabriel shut him up with another kiss. Doing this while they were both riding so high emotionally was really pushing the limits of his conscience, and it took him several kiss-drunk minutes to think of a solution that would make it feel safe enough that he could let himself have it.

 

“We do this,” he mouthed against Sam's spit-slick lips, “and _you_ call the shots. Anything you want, I'll do it.” Sam groaned, sounding part frustrated, part annoyed, but clearly still in the game if his frantic pulling at Gabriel's collar was anything to go by. “Your safeword still cherub?” Gabriel gasped, and Sam nodded, his face tucked into Gabriel's neck as if trying to absorb him through skin contact.

 

“Good. Mine's kielbasa.” Sam snorted a surprised laugh against Gabriel's throat, and he got a swat on the ass for it. “Don't knock it. If it makes you laugh, it'll make you pause, which is... _fuck_ , all you really need in a safeword.”

 

“Fine, whatever,” Sam huffed, scraping his teeth across Gabriel's collarbone, tie loosened and buttons undone just enough for Sam to get to it. “I told you what I want, so get the fuck on with it.”

 

Gabriel took a few more seconds to just revel in the fact that they were here and they were doing this, before slipping seamlessly into character, doing this with Sam as familiar as putting on well-worn clothes, molded to his body by heat, movement and loving use.

 

“What are you doing way up there, pet?” he asked sharply. “You know your place.”

 

Sam practically collapsed where he was, his knees crashing to the floor, making Gabriel wince in sympathy. They'd somehow backed into the kitchen during their frantic making out, and Sam panted up at Gabriel from the warped linoleum, making him send a longing thought to his blood red shag, now long gone. He vowed to himself that he'd get something new and better, preferably something Sam would help him pick out, for the next time there were at Gabriel's place.

 

“You wanted me to use you, huh?” Gabriel purred, rubbing himself through his pants with one hand, while sliding the other into Sam's hair. “To hold you by the hair and fuck your gorgeous mouth until I come down your throat?”

 

Sam moaned, his eyes glassy with lust, and pushed his head up against Gabriel's hand until he took firm hold of the messy locks, forcing Sam to look up at him. “What was that, pet? I didn't hear you.”

 

“Yes,” Sam gasped. “That's what I want.”

 

“Then I guess you'd better find me a wrapper, kitten, because I didn't come prepared.”

 

Barely had the words left him before Sam was digging into his pocket, fishing out several condoms. They were all obviously sized for Sam, but for now they'd do. If things got a little awkward or uncomfortable because of it, it would really only be a good thing, because Gabriel was half sure he'd embarrass himself, blue-balled as he was.

 

“Good boy,” he crooned, and Sam whimpered when Gabriel let go to gesture at his groin with both hands. “You know the drill,” he said mildly, and Sam was on him in a second. Gabriel barely had time to breathe before he was unzipped, untucked and adequately wrapped, Sam's hand on him holding the condom in place while he looked up for permission.

 

“What color's the light, kiddo?”

 

“Green,” Sam breathed.

 

“And what is it you want?” Gabriel asked again, his voice making it clear that there was no room for debate. Sam would be calling the shots here, no matter how murky the waters of dominance and submission might look between them just then.

 

“I want you to fuck my mouth until you come.”

 

“And when do you get to come, kitten?”

 

“When you're done. And when you say I can.”

 

“And how?”

 

Sam groaned, clearly frustrated with all the talking, but he did meet Gabriel's gaze dead on, and his voice was steady when he answered. “I don't care, as long as you talk me through it.”

 

“Good. Good pet. Now ask me my color.”

 

“What... what's your color?”

 

Gabriel's hand slipped back into Sam's hair and fisted tightly in it before bending down so he could bite Sam gently on his earlobe, delivering his answer in a gust of air against Sam's ear, enjoying the full body shudder it provoked.

 

And then there was nothing more Gabriel could think of to make things safer for them both, so he pulled Sam close by his hair, and fulfilled his wish. It was the strangest role reversal Gabriel had ever done, and it really should have made him feel uneasy that the lines were so blurred. He'd called things off with other partners for much, _much_ less. But he trusted Sam to a terrifying degree.

 

Sam's mouth was open wide, giving every indication of being the passive recipient, but at the same time his hand was steady on Gabriel's cock, guiding it to his lips, and still securing the ill-fitted condom. But no matter how weird it all seemed, the sensation of sliding home into Sam's hot mouth was as amazing as ever, and Gabriel's body had no problem remembering what to do with it.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasped as Sam pulled him in, sucking him down, apparently not in the mood to wait for Gabriel to do all the work. “Fuck I missed this. Missed you. So much, pet, you have _no_ idea.”

 

Sam made a garbled noise and reached down to squeeze himself through his jeans, which made Gabriel feel a lot better about his performance issues. Because no matter how much he wanted to make things last, there was just no way he could. Not this first round anyway. If he was lucky he'd get the chance to do it better later. Bolstered by this thought he reached down to take hold of Sam's head with both hands and finally gave him what he wanted, thrusting into his willing mouth just roughly enough to flirt with gagging him. He knew Sam so well, knew exactly how he liked it, and even though they'd been apart for what felt like an eternity, it was as if their bodies remembered each other instinctively. Sam's head followed the movements of Gabriel's hips, perfectly in sync, and it felt like no time at all before Gabriel was riding the edge.

 

“So good, kiddo. Always so fucking good,” he moaned, and Sam shivered, his hand between his legs, squeezing himself harder as Gabriel fucked into him.

 

“Open your pants, sweetheart. I want you right there with me when I come,” Gabriel said, and Sam's hand shook as he followed orders, his cock painfully red and dripping as he eased it out awkwardly through the fly of his boxers.

 

“Go on, kiddo. I'm there. I'm right there, _fuck_.” Gabriel groaned as he tumbled over the edge, coming hard into the latex keeping them apart, while Sam's hand worked frantically below. He let out a broken noise before shooting long strands of white over Gabriel's shoes, wringing out every drop with what looked like a painful amount of force, before slumping back on his haunches with a heartfealt sigh. Gabriel sank into one of the rickety kitchen chairs, legs shaking under him.

 

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” he wheezed, snickering weakly as he caught the condom before it could slide off to the floor. He tied it off and tossed it in the kitchen sink to deal with at some point when his hands had stopped shaking.

 

“Yeah,” Sam panted, one hand braced on a cabinet to prevent him from tilting sideways. “Fuck, I needed that.”

 

“Ditto. Holy fuck.”

 

For a long while they just sat there, catching their breaths, until Gabriel actually started feeling cold on his dick and decided he should probably do up his pants. Sam followed suit and then there was nothing left but awkward silence.

 

“So. That happened,” Gabriel said mildly, while Sam hoisted himself off the floor with a groan and sat on the kitchen chair opposite.

 

“Yeah,” Sam replied, unhelpfully.

 

Gabriel sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Look, Sam, not that I didn't enjoy the fuck out of that, but... where does that leave us now?”

 

The groan Sam let out sounded like a man who would really rather do anything but have deep, emotional conversations just then, but for once Gabriel felt like his classic problem-solving method of ignoring it until it came back to bite him in the ass was just not good enough. He needed to know what this meant for them, and he couldn't decide if it was a sign that he was finally growing up at the tender age of 39 and change, or if he'd just finally stumbled onto something important enough to grow a pair.

 

“Before I open that can of worms, I think I need to tell you some of the things I've been thinking for the past few weeks,” Sam said, looking old and tired. Gabriel's gut clenched with it, and he had to seriously restrain himself to not reach out and touch Sam somehow and try to soothe whatever put that face there. “Thing is... I've always thought that sex was unimportant,” Sam continued. “Like... if you love someone enough, it shouldn't matter. I mean, if you wanna grow old with someone, you have to accept that some day you probably won't be able to have sex anymore, so... why should it matter when you're young? Know what I mean?”

 

Gabriel did know, in a way. The way he was raised had definitely laid the foundation for the belief that needs of the flesh were a secondary concern, and while he didn't believe it anymore, he still remembered the time when he did.

 

“So... when my relationships had sex problems,” Sam said, “I always kind of assumed that it was just because I was weak. Or a pervert or something. So when I met you it was a relief. I mean, that was just sex, and sex wasn't important, so no risk, right?” He laughed mirthlessly. “Shows how much _I_ know.”

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I thought that doing things without sex was the _right_ way. Like we couldn't get to know each other if we didn't do things in the right order. But I didn't know until it all crashed that I already knew you. In all the ways that matter.”

 

“I know the feeling,” Gabriel muttered.

 

Sam sent him a weak smile. “Yeah well. We were both idiots, I guess. We both assumed it was less than it was. I don't know _your_ reasons, but _I_ just assumed that because sex was something I could live without, then it wasn't important.”

 

Gabriel chuckled. “I thought I'd hit the jackpot of casual sex. Because I don't fall for guys. I didn't really know that's what it was until it was thrown in my face a few dozen times, but I guess somewhere, deep down, I just assumed being with you was safe. That you'd never ask for something I couldn't commit to, because... well... you're a guy. And I'm sure if a shrink ever started digging into why I think like that there would be a major research paper in it for them.”

 

Sam snickered, his grin half hidden behind his hand, elbow resting on the table. “God, we're morons.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“We could have been dating and having amazing sex for like... six months if we hadn't had our heads so far up our asses.”

 

“Yeeep.”

 

They exchanged goofy smiles across the table, and Gabriel felt a weight drop off his shoulders as everything fell into place. But then Sam paled and whipped his wrist up to his eyes. “Shit, Dean will be here in like five minutes!”

 

Gabriel felt a quick burst of panic, but manfully shoved it down. “Guess I'm meeting the family, then,” he joked weakly.

 

“Yeah,” Sam hissed, looking frantically around the kitchen. “But the whole kitchen smells like sex, and there's jizz on your goddamn shoes!”

 

That was an excellent point, and Gabriel immediately joined the battle to make it seem like someone totally did not have dirty kitchen nookie half an hour ago. The kitchen window was tiny and had never been able to open, so they aired out the whole apartment and did their best to clean up. Sam made it clear as he was wiping the floor that he did not intend to hide what they were doing, but also that Dean would probably not take a first meeting well with someone looking and smelling like they just ravished his little brother. Gabriel dutifully went to the bathroom and tried his best to freshen up. He returned to find Sam in the kitchen, throwing the condom into the trash and rinsing the sink, and since Dean wasn't there yet, Gabriel thought he'd better make the most of the time left.

 

So naturally Dean walked in on them enthusiastically making out, and while he did shake hands, and (more importantly) did not bite Gabriel's head off, the first meeting definitely ended up more tense than everyone involved had hoped for. Dean clearly knew that something was up with all the open windows and Gabriel's suspiciously scented self, but he proved to be a bigger man about it and managed introductions with a minimum of glaring, and only one vaguely hurt look in Sam's direction.

 

Since it was a Wednesday and everyone had work the next day, Gabriel couldn't stay over. And thanks to the less than smooth sequence of events, Sam thought it best that no one pushed the limits of Dean's patience. So after a few tense minutes of random chit chat Sam showed Gabriel to the door. He didn't hold himself back in his farewells, though, and Gabriel enjoyed a prolonged goodbye kiss in the doorway before forcing himself to leave. Sam stayed in the open doorway, grinning at him as he wobbled down the stairs, and just as he was finally shutting the door, Gabriel heard Dean's outraged voice from inside the apartment.

 

“Dude, seriously?! In the _kitchen?!_ ”

 

Gabriel had to stop and lean against the stairwell wall from laughing so hard.


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue:**

 

Sam didn't like collars. Or chains. Or even bondage all that much. It took Gabriel more than a few turns of trial and error to realize that what really got Sam going was the _idea_ of being bound. The binding itself... not so much. He liked it well _enough_ , but Gabriel was kind of a perfectionist sometimes, and he wanted it to be as good as it could possibly be. So that meant dangling handcuffs and gags in front of Sam's face, dragging ropes suggestively across his wrists and spinning pretty tales of how he'd look being paraded on a leash down the street. Watching Sam fall apart as he imagined it was just about Gabriel's favorite thing in the world, and to ruin that by actually tying Sam down and watching him bear it for Gabriel's sake was about as enjoyable as an ice bath.

 

So, no, Gabriel never tied Sam up. However, holding him down or ordering him to keep immobile did nothing to curb Sam's lust, and he was always so very obedient. Some people might get off on having rebellious subs who cheekily and deliberately ignored orders or misinterpreted them. But Gabriel had always preferred the good ones. The ones who listened and learned and never stepped over any lines. It wasn't the punishment Gabriel got off on. It was watching someone follow his every instruction. And _liking_ it.

 

Sam was very good at letting Gabriel see just how much he liked everything, and it made it so much easier for Gabriel to learn what worked and what didn't. Sam's expressive body and Gabriel's attention to detail made for a very successful combination, which was probably another reason why their relationship remained so focused on their sex life even years later.

 

Not that the other parts of it didn't work. But almost every conflict and tension point was forgotten as soon as Gabriel ordered Sam to kneel. Sam never stopped feeling like he was doing things backwards by fucking through their issues, but Gabriel was of the firm opinion that there was no need to fix what's not broken. And they _did_ talk about their problems. Talking just happened to feel easier for both of them while basking in afterglow, or while Gabriel applied his ever fastidious aftercare.

 

It worked for them. That was all Gabriel needed to know.

 

It worked so well in fact that Gabriel had to stop and breathe deeply for a while when he realized that he had trouble remembering a time before Sam, and even more trouble imagining a future without him. _Well fuck_. All that terrifying commitment had just snuck right up to bite Gabriel in the ass. He was in a mild panic for a few days, pulling into himself and pretending to be busy at work to avoid going home to face it, but there was no doubt. Sam was in Gabriel's heart to stay.

 

Only question now was what to do about it.

 

Gabriel had defined himself by fetish terms for so much of his life that his first thought was to give Sam a collar. But while Sam would understand the gesture and probably wear it proudly, Gabriel wanted Sam to have something he would feel good in too. Something he'd wear for himself as well as Gabriel.

 

A ring was too much. A bracelet might do, but frankly Sam didn't seem to be all that into jewelry of any kind. A belt maybe? Gabriel mulled it over for days without figuring anything out, so in the end he decided to stop being a wuss, and asked Sam about it.

 

“You want to... give me a collar?” Sam asked carefully, looking receptive enough, if a little surprised.

 

“Well yeah. Kinda. I mean yes, I want to give you a collar, but it doesn't have to be an actual collar. It could be like a bracelet or a necklace or whatever you'd feel comfortable with. I just want to give you... well... a symbol of commitment, I guess.” Gabriel cringed at his word choices and was half ready to just forget about the whole thing and then slink away to lick his wounds. “Ideally it would have been a surprise, but I have no idea what you'd actually _like_ to wear, so...” And wow, that just made Gabriel feel worse, because after almost two years, shouldn't he have a better idea what his boyfriend liked?

 

Sam just smiled at him, though, so evidently he didn't see a problem. “Well since you're asking, I probably wouldn't say no to a bracelet. Or even a ring, but I'm guessing that might be jumping the gun a bit here.” Gabriel nodded nervously. It wasn't that he didn't want to, _hell no_. He just hadn't had great experiences with that particular gesture in the past, and Sam knew this. “But,” Sam continued slowly. “You... kinda already gave me a collar.”

 

Gabriel blinked. “No I didn't. When did I do that?”

 

Holding up a hand to wait, Sam went to his room, leaving Gabriel sitting in the half-dark of the living room. Dean wasn't due home for another hour, and Gabriel waited impatiently, listening to Sam moving around in his room. He came back out with... nothing. Puzzled, Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, and in return Sam smiled at him in that particularly sly way that always promised really good times for them both.

 

“Hold out your hand,” Sam said, and when Gabriel did, Sam eased something slippery-soft into it and then pulled back to sit on the couch with his hands folded demurely in his lap. Confused, Gabriel opened his palm and looked down, and what he saw made his heart pound in his chest.

 

“You kept it?” He said weakly, as he unfolded the blood-red silk handkerchief he thought he'd lost. It had been a gimmick, mostly. Something to entice and tease potential lays with, although the way Sam had taken to it had been spectacular indeed. So much so, in fact, that Gabriel had completely forgotten about it until much later, and then assumed he'd lost it in the club. Sam must have taken it home with him. And _kept_ it.

 

Sam nodded. “I definitely didn't mind wearing _that_ for you,” he said, voice soft as the silk Gabriel was holding, and his breath caught as Sam tilted his neck up, displaying himself exactly the same way he'd been posed that first night. It was with shaking hands Gabriel moved closer to tie the cloth around Sam's neck again.

 

“Jesus, I love you so much,” Gabriel whispered, and Sam's eyes fluttered shut. It wasn't the first time either of them had said it, but it was still rare and delicate between them, uttered almost exclusively in the heady rush of bodies tangling, or during the hazy and often reverent calming and healing afterwards.

 

The knot was tied, sitting snugly just below Sam's Adam's apple, and he sighed happily when Gabriel withdrew. “And you'll wear that? Just for me?”

 

“And for me too,” Sam added, a slow smirk settling on his face. “Maybe not to work, but... lots of places. I'll wear it in front of Dean tonight, if you want. Give it a trial run.”

 

Gabriel had to struggle to swallow the saliva suddenly welling up in his mouth. Pavlov, eat your fucking heart out. “Do _you_ want to?” Because that was the deal breaker. As much as the idea drove Gabriel half out of his mind, it would all be sullied beyond repair if Sam wasn't into it just as much.

 

Sam knew what Gabriel was asking, and there was no hesitation when he met Gabriel's gaze dead on, and firmly said...

 

“Yes.”

 

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! First I obsessed over it for ages, trying to decide if I should try and squeeze more into the story or save it for timestamps, then my beta got swamped so when I finally managed to write something I didn't actively hate, she didn't have time to look at it. 
> 
> Anyway, IT'S FINISHED, OMFG!!
> 
> Huge thanks as always to my beta who got through this despite work and life kicking her in the nuts. Thank you, M! You did a great job!
> 
> So! This is the last chapter, BUT DON'T DESPAIR! I've got a lot more to write about these guys, but it's gonna happen in timestamps and possibly a small Cas-centric sequel. I might take a little break to write other things, but timestamps will pop up eventually. A few are already written, so... stay tuned!
> 
> Updates and other blather can be found on [my tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/). Come say hi. :D


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